


The Man in the Corner

by xxxholicmaniac



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderswap, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 96,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxholicmaniac/pseuds/xxxholicmaniac
Summary: "She just has a colorful imagination, Arthur. That's all.""Let me rephrase that. Did I imagine my five years old daughter holding a conversation alone in her room in fluent Russian? Well?""No, you didn't.""Good. Now, do we agree on the fact that she couldn't have learned by herself or otherwise?""Yes, we can agree on that.""So, do you understand why, when she talks about the boy with blue eyes who lives 'here and there' and 'speaks funny', I am inclined to think that this boy is not so much a figment of her imagination as we first believed?""Well, when you put it like that...""Ro, she's talking to someone. And that someone is talking to her. We always knew she was different, but we have to agree that this is more...""I know that, Arthur! I carried her in my womb! Where are you trying to get at, huh?""Nowhere, darling.""We are not going to see any kind of doctors, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with her!""I never said there was, Rowena. What I'm trying to say is that we need to be up to the task.""Are you afraid of her?""Of course not, she's our child. But that's not all she is, isn't she?""No, she's something more."





	1. In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> Welcome to my first fanfiction ever. I *really* enjoy the writing process (English is not my first language so it takes a bit longer than usual). If you enjoy what you read, let me know!  
> Thank you!
> 
> * UPDATE*
> 
> I keep revamping it up. Hit me in the comments and let me know what you think! 
> 
> (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the typos, I do most of the writing on my phone and it's tricky!

“Look, Sam, I know that you probably know more about lost than I do, and maybe I have no right telling you this, but you _are_ my son, and I _am_ your mother, so I think I have to have a saying in all this. I’m worried, I look at you and I'm concerned. I know that you have been drinking again and I’m not going to lie, I did get a call from Jody. They are worry, too. But you know that already, don’t you? Of course you do, you were always smart, although that doesn’t make you necessarily good dealing with emotions, especially yours. I know you’re hurting, we all get that. Dana left, but are you going to work things through?”

“No, Mom, we’re not.”

“Why?”

“I fucked things up with her. Big time.”

“Ok, but could you explain a little? Did you cheat on her?”

“No.”

“Then, what was it?”

“She asked me not to do something, and I promised I wouldn’t. She warned me that if I did, it was over between us. I broke my promise and she kept hers. So now, she's gone.”

“Hmmm… Well, fair warning. I’m sure she had her reasons. However, even if she didn’t, where does it leave you? Are you going to carry on with _this_? Listen, Sam, when Sophie was taken from us, we all suffered. Of course, she was your daughter, and you and Jessica had a lot to process. You had a different way to deal with it, that I could see from miles away. Then, she asked for the divorce and moved on; she married again and had a baby-boy. And while all of this happened, I feared for you, Sam, you were stepping into the darkness, a little every day. You became this person I didn’t recognize any longer. I buried my granddaughter and then I felt I was assisting to your funeral too. Then the car accident happened and I thought I lost you forever. We all did. But you overcame the injuries; you came through the whole thing. And yet, I thought I would never see you happy again. But I did. That first time you showed up with Dana; I saw you getting out of the car from the kitchen window. She looked at you in a way that no women ever did, not even Jess. She looked at you with utter devotion, and, to my surprise, you looked back at her with the same joy. I could tell that both of you were nervous. But then you walked in, hand in hand, and I knew it. I _knew_ you had found something big. And for the first time in I don’t know how long, I sighed with relief. Until that point, I didn’t know that I was holding my breath. But I was. Dana is amazing, I mean, that women… And I don’t need to know more than what you just told me. I don’t care why you broke up. The thing is that you did. And now you are retrieving to the darkness, again, and I’m holding my breath, again, hoping that you won’t lose yourself in the guilt, again, because you are blaming yourself for everything wrong in your life and the world. Again. We are not having this conversation because I _need_ you to be happy, like you are some situation that needs to be fix. I don’t want to fix you, Sam. What you need to understand is that people around you have their own free will and they will make choices and you _might_ , just might, be a part in their choice-making process. But that doesn’t mean that it’s your fault.”

“I just told you I promised Dana something and then I broke my word, Mom, how is that not my fault?”

“OK, go ahead and have a pity-party. How is that attitude going to bring her back to you?”

“You don’t get it! She won’t come back. She’s _gone_. She drop out of the grid and went radio silence. She's not coming back. I had the most amazing person by my side, I was happy, mom, I was truly happy for the first time since Sophie was taken from me and I fucked it up. I did the one thing I promise not to. Why? Because I was trying to do the right thing, I was trying to help…”

“Help _yourself_ , Sam. You are spiraling down! Dana is gone, OK, I get it, and she won’t come back. Do _you_ get that? She’s _not_ coming back. Now, why do you keep living in Kansas? Why don’t you move back to Lawrence? It’s like you’re holding the fort in case she returns. But in the meantime, you’re living in a museum; her things are all around the house, I’m guessing that the way she just left them, huh? Furthermore, I’m gonna go on a limp here and say that your computer wallpaper is a picture of her, same as your phone. Tell me I’m wrong, Sam. Yeah, I didn’t think so. Look, it’s been months now. Months. And you have to learn how to live without them. And I’m talking about Sophie, too. Why do you do this to yourself? Are you punishing yourself? Don’t give me that look. I know a thing of two about losing someone important as well. Age does that to you. But let me tell you something. When your father passed away, I didn’t think I was going to make it. He left us so unexpectedly. I used to fall asleep crying and wake up crying. I know he was your father and you grieved him too. Maybe Jack and Eileen were more open about it, I don’t know. All I know for sure is that your father was my best friend, my confident. And then he was gone. Yet, I was living my life like he was still part of it. I cooked for two, I shopped for two. I kept watching the TV shows he liked. I kept the kitchen light on. His toothbrush was still in the bathroom, his shaver, his shampoo, his books piled up on his nightstand. I was living in a house with his materialized absence. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him. My heart leaped every single time. But then, at night, when I rolled on the bed and my hand reached out to his side, it was empty. Deep in my heart, I knew I was living in a fantasy. He was not going to come back to me. Wishing doesn’t make it so. He was not going to show up in the kitchen, rubbing his belly and asking me for a snack. He was not going to wake me up with a cup of tea and a kiss on my forehead. He was not going to call from the groceries store to ask me if we had enough beer and cheese. He was not going to fall asleep in the couch and start snoring halfway through the movie. He was not coming back. And my woe was not going to step back as long as I denied the fact that he was gone for good. Not because it was my fault, but because that’s how life is. He left me too soon. Although, you and me both know that whatever time you have it’s never enough when you are in love. The thing is that he was still part of my life, a material part, I mean. It was still his house because I gave him room. I was living with a ghost, a memory that spread out into everything. The house became a museum of our life together, a life that no longer was ours but only mine. It hit me. Better late than never, right? I realized that the space, the _material_ space he had in my life, was not proportional to how much I loved him or how sorry I was to lose him. I needed my life back, not because I didn’t love him or because I was over him, but because I couldn’t live for both of us, only for myself. So, I pondered about it and I took a resolution. I would put one thing away every day. And so I did. I threw away his toothbrush. I put his books back on the shelves. I gave some of his clothes to you and your brother, other things I gave away. Little by little, I regained control of the house that now was only mine. I hanged more pictures of him with you guys. I made those photo albums with a lot of pictures that we took over the years and were sitting on the computer. Then I rearranged the house, painted the rooms a different color, I renovated his office. I mean, I had to do something with what I had left. I felt I had to _own_ his absence in my life. And all this time, I carry all memories in my heart. I loved your father but I had to let go of him. I had to move on. Not because I was relinquishing the life we had together like it never happened, but because that life didn’t exist anymore. It was not possible. It takes two. I can’t live for myself _and_ him as well. Our time together was amazing and I have no regrets, but it was due and that’s OK. Do you understand what I mean? Don’t let yourself believe that you will forget Sophie or Dana if you put their things away. You have a big heart and it won’t let you forget about them. Just, please, step into the light. You don’t belong to the shadows.”


	2. A Brave New World

“So, why don’t we discuss what really brought you here?”

“I don’t know how to explain.”

“No worries, I won’t judge.”

“I’ve been having these dreams… About people I don’t know, people who ask for my help. I _think_ they’re dead. But I soon as I wake up, I can’t recall anything helpful. I don’t know what to do with this. And I can’t sleep, because every time I fall asleep, I feel like something is pulling me under and I have these visions. And I wake up feeling worse than I did when I went to bed. My doctor prescribed me some pills but I don’t know if that’s really helping me. So, I hoped you could help me with this.”

“What did the doctor say about your dreams?”

“Post-traumatic syndrome. He recommended me to see a therapist.”

“I’m no therapist.”

“I know, the third therapist I visit recommended you.”

“Oh, I see. I bet it was Mia. She's more open minded than the rest of her colleagues.”

“Yes, actually it was her. So, can you help me?”

“Well, how do you think I could help?”

“I don’t know, maybe you can tell me what does it all mean?”

“You already know what it means. You just told me.”

“But that’s not really possible… I mean… Why is this happening to me? It's doesn't make any sense.”

“When did you start to have these dreams?”

“After a car accident.”

“Let me guess, you died and were brought back.”

“Yes, I was gone for almost two minutes on the way to the hospital. How did you know?”

“An educated guess. You see, what’s happening to you it’s not a rare thing. Sometimes when one has a traumatic experience, like near-death experience or actually dying, like in your case, something that was asleep inside suddenly awakens. So one becomes more aware of the other side, more permeable to everything surrounding us, to the things in plain sight and the things that remain hidden, the things we perceive in the physical world and everything else that isn’t in this plain of existence.” 

“So you are telling me that _real_ dead people are reaching out for me?”

“You told before me you’re a cop. It makes sense to look for you if they need help, right?”

“But I can’t help them; I can’t remember their faces, their names, or whatever they say to me. I just wake up with the feeling that I have to help, but I have no idea how I should do that.”

“Well, the important thing is that you believe that much and that you want to help. Take it from me; that’s a huge first step. Most are in denial. But you are a believer.”

“I don’t know what I am. I just want it to stop. I’m losing my mind over here.”

“Oh, please, don’t say that. I know you really don’t think that way. You are just frustrated, and that’s completely understandable. You are a good man, that’s why they are reaching for you, asking for your help. You just need some answers. That’s all.”

“Do you happen to know those answers?”

“Well, I’m just a medium. I talk to dead people, but not to everyone who is dead. You need another kind of help. I have a friend, an herbalist of the finest, she knows someone who might have what it takes to help you.”

“OK, when can I meet this person?”

“Let me call my friend, Rowena, and she’ll tell us in time.”

“I need this to be the soon as possible”

“I understand the urgency. But before I make this call, can we talk about the little girl who arrived here with you?”

“What little girl?”

“Your daughter? Is that correct? Your daughter passed away recently?”

“I… Yes, she did…”

“Well, she is right here with you. She wants me to tell you that she was not afraid when it happened. Oh, dear, she died violently, is that so? I hear people screaming. Oh, I see, someone was shooting. She passed away in a shooting? Is that correct?”

“Y-yes…”

“I’m so sorry for your lost, Sam. She wants you to know that she wasn’t afraid because Grandpa John was holding her hand all the way. Is that your father?”

“Y-yes, that's my dad.”

“Well, she wants you to know that she didn’t suffer and that she’s not alone. Her Grandpa is looking after her so everything is OK, you don’t need to worry. She is showing me a pony, a pink pony? Did she have a toy like that? Not a pony, sorry, an unicorn?"

“Yes, Queen Strawberry. She loved it.”

“Do you brush the unicorn’s tale often?”

“Every day. She… liked to brush her hair every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed. I… just keep doing that.”

“Well, she wants you to know that every time you do that, every time you pamper her unicorn, she is there with you. She says that she knows that it’s hard for you to do so, but she is thankful for it. She knows you do it because you love her, and she wants you to know that she loves you too.”

“I … How… How do you…?”

“We all have our gifts. I was born with this one. That’s all. Now, let’s call Rowena and see what we can do about yours.”

 

 

 

Rowena has her shop in what it used to be the garage of the house. She lives over Topeka and her property is the largest in the neighborhood. She has a huge greenhouse and a barn that are visible from the sidewalk, spite the heavy snow. Her shop is big, probably renovated over the years, and busy. I counted two employers on the front and spotted one in the back of the store. The flyers hanging on the boards around the store advertised different activities: tea parties, workshops about Bach flowers, candle making, soap making, aromatherapy and such.

“How can I help you, young man?” A black woman with a beautiful braided hair asks me, her gaze inquiring.

“Hi, how are you? I’m looking for Rowena,” I approach the counter reluctantly. There are too many things all over the place, I feel like a lose animal in a china shop.

 “And you are?” The woman eyes me carefully.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Sam Winchester.”

“I see, Pam’s friend,” she said and her expression softened.

“I'll take it from here, thank you Missouri!” Another woman chimes from the back. She makes her way to the front of the shop, greeting everyone on her way. “Hi, I’m Rowena, nice to meet you,” she says with a warm smile. She’s tiny and her ginger hair is all bouncy. Maybe she is little over fifty, maybe, it's hard to tell. “Aren’t you a tall and handsome lad?” She shakes my hand. “You arrived a little early, but everything is ready, follow me.” I follow her to the back of the store, it looks like that's where all the workshops take place, and then into the house. We entered through the kitchen. There’s woman sitting on the breakfast nook, a drink in one hand and a phone in the other, her dark blonde hair is pouring over her face. But Rowena doesn't stop nor introduces her, and she didn’t seem to notice us either.

“Ok, Samuel, this is what we are going to do,” Rowena begins as she walks up the stairs.“Pamela is waiting for you in the room and Missouri will join us in a bit; they will help you get ready. Nothing fancy, just a good cleaning and a proper tune-up to get you all set. Then, Dana will take care of you. Let me get your coat so you can get comfortable. I’ll bring you some tea in a minute,” she shows me the way to an empty room. There was only a huge carpet in the middle and a smiling Pamela. After a bit, Rowena came back with a tray with hot tea and Missouri. I never had anything like that tea. It was really helping me cope with “the talk.”

 

 

 

I’m tired. And I feel different. I can’t say exactly why, but I do. After the “cleaning” and the “tune-up,” Pamela and Missouri left the room. There are candles in each corner. White sage and lavender, Pamela told me. Now I’m waiting for Dana. I didn’t ask any questions about her out of pure courtesy. Maybe she’s going to explain me how she’s going to help me with the dreams just as the others explained me their process. I got tired of waiting, so I sit down on the carpet.

I think I was dozing out when, finally, the door opened again. The woman I saw in the kitchen walks in with a blanket and a pillow under her arm.

“Hey,” she pauses with a smug expression on her face. I think she was about to say something but changed her mind. “So... Here we are,” she finishes instead. She leaves the blanket and the pillow on the floor.

“Yes, I’m Sam,” I stand up to meet her eyes and stretch my hand. “You must be Dana?”

“Yep," she replies after a moment. She doesn’t shake my hand, so I let it hang to the side again. She paces around me, describing a circle, burning holes with her gaze. I feel like a sculpture. 

“Is there something wrong?” My good predisposition is wearing off.

“Well, that depends…” she makes to a halt.

“You know why I am here?” I feel so, so tired, I just want to get over with it.

“Oh, yes, I do. That’s why _I’m_ here,” she puts her hands behind her back.

“Are you going to help me?”

“Like I said, it depends…,” she replies cryptically.

“On what?” I let go a weary sigh.

“On your understanding of the word _help_. I can see you are standing half way through, so to speak. My question is, how do you want me to help you?”

“I thought Pamela told you, I need help with my dreams.”

“Yeah, I've been told. Look, Sammy, there are somethings I want to make sure you understand clearly _before_ I help you. First, the dreams are only _a stage_ of this particular development of yours. It may evolve into something else later on, you never know. Second, whatever I do, you can’t back down later. I mean, you can back down and change your mind; I just won’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll be stuck with the consequences of your choice. So, I know _now_ you have trouble sleeping. I’m sure Pamela told you that they are trying to connect with you while you are asleep; and that’s probably because you open up to them when in that particular mindset. But though they connect to you, and here’s the real problem, you can’t really connect with them. You are halfway thought, like I said before. So anyways, I can help you by making the dreams and the dead go away for good or I can make you hear them loud and clear, also for good. And I can’t stress this enough, are you listening carefully?” I nod. “Good,” she continues. “So, fact number one, the extent of your ability might evolve into something else and there’s no way to foresee that, OK? Fact number two: whatever I do, once it’s done, it will be _done_.  And I’m not saying _done_ like a tramp stamp that you can painfully remove later. I mean _done-_ done, for reals. So my question is: do you want me to help you get out of this or do you want me to help you get all the way in?”

“Help me connect with them,” I don’t even have to think about it.

“Why don’t you think about it? Take a day; sleep on it, in fact, why don’t you take your time to figure out what you want?”

“I just told you what I want.”

“Yeah, I heard you, buddy. The thing is I don’t think you _are_ listening. Bottom line, again, it won’t be easy. I don’t know what these fruit loops told you or what idea you have in your mind about this _I see dead people_ thing; but when I say it won’t be easy, it’s really an understatement. There’s nothing poetic about it. It will take a toll on you; it won’t matter the kind of background you have, how tough you think you are, you _will_ suffer. You will connect to them, to their life and to their death and _everything_ in between. And that’s a whole lot of pain and suffering and bad juju. Listen. You. Will. Never. EVER. Be the same. So, honestly, _think_ about it.” She puts so much candor and weight to her words, and her gaze is so intense, that I feel somewhat overwhelmed by her, crushed by her energy. Yet, I am sure. That’s why I’m here; right here to take the leap.

“I know. I’m sure about this, that’s why I’m here.”

“Yeah, I thought that much. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sammy,” she shrugs with a sight, and all the tension that had been building up to this moment dissipated in that very gesture. How could she do that?

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she replies dryly. “Aren’t you something, huh?” She continues a moment later. “Well, looks like we’re doing this. Take off your sweater, please.” I oblige. “And the shirt too,” she adds. She takes a minute to assess me. A half smile curls her lips. “You know what, why don’t you take off your shoes and your pants, too?”

“Is it really necessary?” I saw something in her eyes, a hint of mischievousness. Was she enjoying this?

“Absolutely. Trust me,” she deadpans. She licks her lips. Oh, yes, she’s enjoying this.

“Socks too?” I ask sarcastically.

“Only if you want to,” she brushes my tone gracefully. I stand in the middle of the room wearing nothing but my boxers and socks. She’s still looking, no, not looking, staring at me. This is getting awkward. I lift my brow in question, but she doesn’t notice. She keeps staring. Then she nods and approaches me and stands really close. I can feel the warmth of her body. She looks around me and I have the impression she’s seeing something that was not quite there. Nevertheless, she’s too close; I can even smell her perfume. Without a warning, she puts her hands —a little colder than I would expect it— on my chest. I can’t help but to take a step back. She chuckles.

“Easy tiger,” she gestures me to get back in position.

“If you just told me what you are doing…,” I say, feeling utterly uncomfortable and self-aware.

“But where is the fun in that?” She scolds. “C’mon, don’t be shy,” she urges me. I approach her again, reluctantly. “Good boy.” It feels nothing like a ritual of any sorts. It feels intimate. And that’s exactly the problem. But this time, I don’t move. She places her hands back on my chest. I can’t help to shiver, goose bumps spreading. This is definitely awkward, is she messing with me? Dana gently caresses my chest, running the tip of her fingers above my abdomen and then the lower part of my back, almost hugging me. She moves like she was tracing something. At first, I thought she was tracing my scars —I accumulated a fair share— but I don’t have _that_ many. No, I guess she’s just touching me. I’m about to say something, anything, I have to, but something in her look prevented it. Her gaze is different, locked on something beyond me. She had lost all traces of the playfulness she had shown before. She’s definitely doing something, what exactly I have no idea. Suddenly, she grips my shoulders, hard. The almost-hug is over. Her hands are now really hot, scorching my skin. I think I even flinch. And then, I’m out.

 

 

 

Dana gripped Sam by his broad shoulders and then shoved him hard into the wall. He didn’t even have time to react, as he collapsed, unconscious, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

After a minute, she dragged him to the middle of the room and stretched his limbs properly, so he wouldn’t hurt in the morning. She placed the pillow under his head and covered him with the blanket she had brought for the occasion. She allowed herself to kiss him softly on the lips.

“I promise, he won’t mind,” she assures to the little girl standing beside him. “He's gonna to need your help now. Are you gonna help your daddy?” The little girl nodded with enthusiasm. “Good girl.” Before she exited the room, Dana cast another glance over the sleeping Sasquatch. He was taller than she remembered.


	3. POV

Dark blonde hair, eyes two different shades of green, freckles, saggy pajamas. _Dana_. Her name is branded in my memory. I hadn’t seen her since she help me back in February.

“Sammy,” she greets me with a half mischievous smile on her lips. I usually don't enjoy people calling me other than Sam, but I think Dana is the kind of people who messes with you even more so after that kind of statement. “What can I do for you in this lovely evening?” She leans against the door frame.

“I was looking for Rowena, is she here?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know when is she coming back?”

“Well, Anna is due next week and my mom is helping her with the baby and all that. You know, birth and such. So I would say she's not coming back for at least three weeks.” So they are family. Odd. I didn’t get that impression at all. I didn’t remember seeing family pictures in my previous visit, but then again, the circumstances had been awkward as well. “You look like shit, if you don’t mind me saying. Are you sleeping at all?” She adds after a second glance.

“That’s kind of why I’m here. Rowena prepares a special tea for me, to help me sleep. I finish my batch a few weeks ago, but I couldn’t get here sooner. I asked at the store and they said she prepares it herself on the spot, so they have no idea what goes in it. Missouri told me to come back on the weekend and ask her personally.” I should have come sooner. The wait was not a happy prospect. Dana looked past me and tilts her head to the side.

“Did she now? You should come in,” she gestures me to come inside.

I noticed the pictures this time, although there are not abundant. I followed her to the kitchen, where she picks up her beer and her phone.

“Let me give her a call,” she says after taking a swig. “Sit, make yourself comfortable,” she motions to the breakfast nook. “Wanna a beer?”

“No, thank you, I’m OK.” I sit down trying not to stare.

“Voicemail. I’ll text her.” She puts down her bottle reluctantly. Dana moves her lips as she writes, and I find that adorable. “Sent,” she put the phone down and picked up the drink again. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. What do we do now, huh?” Again, that half mischievous grin. I shrugged. No, I couldn’t say she didn’t. I’m so tired; I have to figure out the next step.

“I guess we could go through her stuff. I know she writes everything down,” she pointed out after a moment.

“She won’t mind?” I don’t want to step any boundaries.

“I don’t think so. The problem is to find out where she wrote it down. Come, her office is right this way,” she walked passed by me and I could smell her perfume. Sandal wood, wilderness and rain.

The office itself was a small and messy room, probably the old family room. The desk was under piles and piles of papers and books. There were bookshelves in three of the four walls, more books and other small items crowding every surface available. There were some flowerpots by the two windows, plants lush with lustrous and healthy leaves. There was an armchair, also covered with papers and notebooks, next to a side table and a floor lamp (an excellent chill spot for reading), next to piles of more papers and notebooks and books lying on the floor. 

“Welcome to my mother’s mind,” she said. “I’ll take the desk, you try that chaotic spot over there,” she gestured the armchair area.

A good hour passed by. Dana finished her drink and got a refill and brought a lemonade for me. I had gone through various papers and notes regarding gardening tips, gardening supplies prices lists, suppliers, handwritten notes, printed emails and newspapers articles, and over a hundred of recipes, but not my tea instructions. Every now and then, I casted a glance over to Dana, who was silently going through papers herself, apparently comfortable with only the sound of ruffling paper.

“This is pointless. And I’m starving.” She checked her phone. “Still no answer, she must be busy,” added with a shrug. She walked out of the room and left me with my assigned pile of chaos. After a few minutes, she came back. “What are you doing? Come to the kitchen, I’m making dinner.”

“I think I should go,” I said getting back on my feet.

“No, you are not. You’re in no shape to drive. I’m surprised you got this far, really,” she scolded. “Let’s have a bite first. Then we’ll take care of your sleeping problem.”

Dinner meant mac and cheese. She stuck to beer and I had another glass of lemonade. We chatted about small things. She asked me about my work and my experiences on the field. I asked her about her life in general lines. It turned out that she lived outside Kansas City and she came over to oversee the house and the business only on her mother’s request. When I asked about her job, she answered that she works as financial consultant for some company in Kansas City. I couldn’t really picture her in such job. When we finished dinner, she offered me some ice cream, but I declined.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” I said apologetically.

“Is it so unbearable to be around me?” She asked me with her palm over her heart and an over dramatic tone.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome,” I replied, smiling. Even my face was tired. After all, it was pretty late, and this was as close as I got to a night out in months. To be honest, I almost forgot I used to like the company of others.

“So maybe you didn’t hear me before? You’re in no shape to drive back to your place. It’s a long drive. And besides, I thought you wanted to sleep. I can see to it.”

“I thought you wouldn’t help me anymore,” her offer threw me off a little bit.

“I didn’t say that. Are you a bad listener or just a tease? I hope it’s the ladder. Look, I can’t make you tea, but I have wisdom to share, if you would care to ask.” Now she sounded a little annoyed and I felt a little bit embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just that you have been so kind to me; I feel like you should say _I told you so_ and send me on my way. It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, I already said that, and it’s not funny when you say it. Anyhow, I’m not sending you on your way. What we should do it’s discuss your method. You need a system, a way to efficiently approach the issue. I’m sure my mother’s tea helps you to get by but that’s just a crutch. And also, it’s not the power of the tea itself but the power you give to the tea. Look, I’m sure it helps, I’m not saying otherwise, but my recommendation is to put the emphasis on your mental process. The afterlife can be messy and chaotic which would obviously throw anybody off their game. The dead usually are not in control of their new status, sometimes because it’s relative to what kind of life they lived and what kind of death they had. The thing is that the rules we live by, when we are dead do not apply. Most don’t know that, so they don’t know how to do this either. Which brings me to my next point: it’s really up to you to find a way for them to reach you without making your life a living hell. Especially if they had a traumatic death and are seeking justice.”

“OK, OK, so… what should I do?”

“Well…,” she paused significantly, “Visualization helps.” Another paused pregnant with meaning. “Come, let’s get upstairs. If we are doing this, you need to be comfortable.”

 

 

 

Try to relax. Focus on your breathing. Relax your body. That’s it. Breathe in, and out. You are safe. Now, imagine you are about to take the train back home. Picture the station. You are at the top of the stair flight, looking down. The path is white, well lid. Step down, slowly. That’s it. With every step you take, the worries of the day are lifted and you feel lighter and more relaxed. Take a deep breath; let the cool air wash in. Now, let it all out. Again, breathe in the cool air and let it fill your inside. Exhale; let all your worries go. Feel your toes, your feet, your legs. Let the tensions go away as you walk down the stairs. Feel your fingers, your hands, your elbows, your shoulders. Relax. You are going home now. Feel your chest rise with every inhale, feel it come down with every exhalation. You feel good, you feel warm, you feel safe. You are in good hands. Yes, you can see her now, can you? She is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. She is so beautiful. Say hi, say _Hi, Sophie!_ What do you have there? The tickets. Now, take her hand, the train will be here any minute now, you should go to the platform. There’s no one else in the station because this train is just for you and Sophie, no one else is allowed. Do you hear it now? That’s the train. You are going home with Sophie now! This is wonderful. You are safe. Look, the train is here. It’s empty because it’s a special train for you both. C’mon, get inside, pick up a good seat; the train will leave when you feel ready. Take your time. You are loved, you are cherished, you are safe. There is nothing to worry about. Are you ready to leave? Great, you hear the doors closing and you feel the train moving forward. Yes, you like the vibrations, it’s soothing. Sophie holds on to your hand. You feel the love, you feel safe, you are safe. And you are going home with Sophie. Now she has something to tell you, lean in, she wants to tell you something, get closer, that’s it. Sophie says

 

_TIME TO GO TO SLEEP_

 

 


	4. The red binding thread

"You shouldn't be driving,” I hear a female voice behind me. The woman from the bar is smoking a cigarette leaning against the wall of the parking lot. "Drinking and driving, terrible idea,” she blows up some smoke. "Add snow and you have a disaster.” She talks as a matter of fact, but I can hear a lecturing tone all the same.

"Seriously? You're the one gulping down pills with alcohol,” I zip up my coat.

"So you _were_ looking,” she grins wiggling her brow. Damn. Caught.

"I notice,” I try to sound nonchalant. No point denying. I stared at her pretty much since she walked into the bar. I don't do that. I don't think I ever had. I'm not a creepy guy. I'm not an asshole either. Yet, I did stare at her the whole time. I watched her walk in, sit down, order a beer, reach for a bottle of pills, take a few down with the beer and just sit there, absent minded. I watched her brush off two random dudes who tried to hit on her in two different occasions. When I came back from the bathroom, she was gone. I felt a little bit disappointed, but I paid the tap and walked out. Guess she walked out for a smoke.

"What else did you _notice_?" She air quotes me. Shit. I'm not sober enough to do this. I'm not drunk enough to do this. I don't even know what _this_ is.

"Nothing,” I lie.

"Bullshit,” she calls me off and takes a long draft at her cigarette.

"I'm sorry,” I walk up to her with my hands in my pockets. “Have we met before?" And that's what has been bothering me all along. Or so I tell myself.

"Hmm... I don't think so?" She took her time to answer me. Her pupils are dilated; I can't quite make out the color of her irises. I wonder what kind of pills is she on.

"You look... familiar,” I stammer, which sounds creepy and lame. Good job.

"I know,” she huffs. "You know what that means?" She throws away her cigarette bud. It falls onto the snow with a hiss.

"What?" She has my undivided attention.

"Trouble.” I can't read her expression, not really. This is all so unexpected. I just walked in for a drink, or two, to kill some time. I don't know if she’s flirting. Is this how flirting goes? My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I reach out; it's a text from Rufus. _Be there in 5_.

"That's my ride,” I put away the phone. "I'm not driving,” I explain for no reason.

It's still snowing. Everything is so quiet.

"May be you should stay a little longer. Tell him you'll catch up later.” Oh. No, this is not happening. I'm not actually considering this. I'm not doing this. I'm too old for this shit.

"How old are you?" She must be in her late twenties at most.

"I'm an old soul,” she replies with a smirk. And I believe her. Shit. Her gaze feels heavy on me, pushing. Her hair is peeking out of her white woolen hat. She is beautiful, in a very scary way. She takes a Chapstick out of her pocket and applies it. I stare down at her lips. She has nice plush lips. Very kissable. Ok, that's it. I'm definitely not doing this.

"Yes, I don't think so.” I sigh and I realize I've been holding my breath. She steps forward an inch.

"You look like you had a rough---"

"Day?" I cut her off. Now it's my turn to smirk. She rolls her eyes.

"Actually —she continues with a colder tone— I was gonna say rough couple of years." And she doesn't even know how much of that it's true.

"Yeah, that's more accurate. How about you?" I try to makes amends but she is not buying it. "Rough day? Week? Year?" I trail off.

"Just rough,” she shrugs. And I immediately know that's also true. I want to stay. I don't know why, but I really want to. I feel the loneliness, the cravings for intimacy, creeping out of me and I hate it. I'm just a rundown sorry ass excuse of a man. Shit. What the fuck am I doing?

I hear a honk. I turn around and I spot Rufus’ car down the street. I look back at her and I see her peering down on me, almost begging. Or that's what I want to believe.

"That's my ride,” I sound apologetically and I don't even know why. She looks disappointed. Or maybe that's just me. I linger. Rufus honks again. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

She opens and closes her mouth, hesitantly. I can see the wheels turning inside her head. The phone buzzes again. She sighs.

"Next time you see me, instead of just staring at me, will you come over and talk to me?" That takes me by surprise.

"You didn't seem like you wanted company,” I feel embarrassed. Big wuss.

"Well, I was waiting for you, actually,” she says rolling her eyes again. "So, will you? Talk to me? Next time?" She takes a step forward.

"Sure." She still looks kinda disappointed. Maybe frustrated. Then she reaches her hand out to me.

"You promise?"

I reach out for her hand. It's soft and cold. Her grip it's hard and serious. She's not kidding. What the hell am I doing?

"I promise.” Something flickers through her gaze. I don't know what, but suddenly I feel like I did something that I shouldn't have done. The phone buzzes again.

She lets go of my hand.

"You should go. Your friend is getting all angsty.” And just like that, the moment —yes, I think we were having a moment— was gone.

I turn around and walk towards the car. I can see Rufus it's like _what the hell man_.

I get in and he spoke the words at loud.

I'm not sure how to respond to that.

"What the hell, Sam? Who was she?" Rufus is not anxious, he is excited. We took off. "So? Are you going to share with the class or what?”

"We were just talking,” I know Rufus is trying to read too much into this.

"I know, I saw you. Well, I think I saw you. Wanna elaborate?”

"Not really.” He must be thinking I'm back in the game.

"It's good though, you getting back in the game and all. It's good.” Shit. I'm too tired of this conversation. I know he means well and all, but I don't feel like having this conversation with him. Again.

"You know, it's been more than reasonable time... Jessica has moved on. Maybe you should too. Like, start dating and such. You are young and a fairly good looking fella.”

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?” I deadpan.

"You wish, boy. You're way too high maintenance.”

 

 

 

She watched him walk towards the car. She watched him get into the car. She watched the car go. She reached for her phone and dialed.

"911, what's your emergency?" The voice said on the other side of the phone.

"There's been an accident,” she said.

 

 

Red light.

 

Silence stretches over us. I know Rufus is worry. About me. He has been worrying for some time now. Everyone is. I know they do. Worry. About me. I know they care. About me. But I can't bring myself to care. I just can't. Maybe I don't want to. I know I'm a mess, but I don't know how to unwind myself out of this. I don't know if I ever will. I'm not sure I can. I don't know if I can fix myself up. I'm not sure I want to. It's not like I have something to live up to. Bounce back to what exactly? Nothing. No one. Not anymore at least. I start to feel sorry for myself and that just pisses me off.

 

Green light.

 

I think about Sophie. I hear a screech. And then, blackness.

 

 

 

She knew he was trouble the moment she walked into the bar and felt his gaze upon her. She had felt off all day. She should have known better. And now his dead daughter was reaching out to her.

"I know,” she replied to her pleading. "I know!" Her head was throbbing but she holds on to the red thread she wrapped around his finger when they shook hands. She knows this is going to backfire. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. This was a bad idea. Yet she holds on. She holds on to him.

 

 

Sophie watched everything. The whole thing. The ambulance got there really, really fast. Almost immediately after the truck hit the car with his daddy inside.

 

 

He felt a tug around his ring finger at some point but he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt warm. It was nice.

 

 

"I know, I know! It's not like I'm not trying!” She was almost blinded by the pain. The migraine had turn into something else entirely. This shouldn't have been so difficult. Oh, yes. Bad idea with a capital B for BIG.

 

 

Another tug.

 

 

"Fuck!" She screamed internally. Or maybe out loud. She reached out further.

 

 

_You promise. I'm here. Where are you?_

_I'm here._

_Talk to me._

_Who are you? What are you doing here?_

_You promise. You promise me next time you would stick around. So, c'mon! This is next time!_

_Why are you mad at me? I don't even know your name._

 

 

 

"---our name.”

"Hey, stranger,” someone said. "Shhh... Take it easy, tiger. Everything’s fine. Good boy. You were in a car accident. You’re at the hospital now. Go back to sleep, you need to rest. Everything is OK. That's it. Good boy.”

 

 

"R-rufus?"

"Yeah, Sam. I'm right here"

"You OK?"

"Yeah, boy. I'm OK. You took the worst part, though. You'd been out for a couple of days. Guess you are playing hard to get?"

"This is the worst date ever.”

"Shut up and go back to sleep. You need to rest.”


	5. Chicken soup for the psychic

"What's going on with you today? You are all jumpy,” Jody glances at me.

"Nothing.” I've been feeling off since I woke up. Running didn't help. I can't focus; I keep looking out the window.

"Is this about the case?” She offers an explanation.

"Yeah, I don't know.” I feel like I'm all over the place.

"What do you wanna eat?”

"Soup.”

"Really? Soup?” Jody mocks me but I know she'll comply.

"Yes, a nice chicken and noodles soup.”

"I know just the place.” Jody drives for a couple more minutes and parks the car on the street. Looks like a nice place. And then my heart does this thing, this thing that it's been doing for a while now, as if a giant hand squeezed it. It's not a medical condition, I checked.

We walk in and the hostess shows us a table. When I'm about to sit down, I see Rowena a couple of tables behind. And then I get it. I ask Jody to order for me and I walk up to her.

"Hey Rowena!” I greet her.

"Samuel! How are you doing, dear?" She has a big smile on her face. We half hugged and I get a glance from the other women at the table.

"This is my younger daughter, Anna, and this young man is my grandson, Hunter. This is Samuel, a fellow friend.” I greet her too. I look at the table and there are three glasses. Someone's missing.

"Is Dana here too?" I asked and her sister replies me with a huff.

"She’s probably outside chain-smoking,” she looks at me with a hint of interest. I breathe in. We exchange some pleasantries and I get back to my table just to tell Jody I'm stepping outside for a minute. She’s on her phone and doesn't pay me too much attention.

I go around the back of the building, and sure enough, there she is. Another gentle heart squeeze. Dana is leaning against the wall. She’s wearing black pumps, a pencil black shirt, a really white shirt and a blue navy blazer. Her hair is up in a stylish bun. It's a look I haven't seen before and I'm speechless. She looks stunning. But she looks really tired too. And somewhat sad? When I'm a few steps away, I watched her smile. I'm sure she felt me rather than see me.

"Of course it's you,” she says grinning.

"Were you expecting someone else?" I try to sound hurt.

"Not really,” she looks right into my eyes. She looks like someone who has a really painful headache. I'm taken aback. Something's going on.

"What's wrong?" I ask not sure to move closer.

"Hell, I don't know. I've been feeling off all day,” she says with a sigh. Now I'm really worried. "And my day hasn't even started yet.” She lights her cigarette. I suspect she _is_ chain-smoking. "How about you?"

"Soup."

"What?" Her tone got really serious.

"I came for soup. I'm on my lunch break,” I explain.

“What kind of soup?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Humor me, Samuel.”

“Chicken and noodles?”

"Of course,” she takes a long pull and stares at me intently. She's not happy about my choice?

"What?" I ask. This is weird even for us.

"Have you been thinking about me, Sammy?” How did she come around that conclusion? "You have, haven't you?" And how's the soup related?

"Maybe?" I feel embarrassed.

"You little fucker,” she plays with the ring on her left hand. I have no idea what she talking about. I've been thinking about her, though. And now that I've seen her, my anxiety has dropped. Oh. "You fucking reach out to me,” she shakes her head. “You are getting better, stronger. I can tell. You are blossoming like it's psychic Woodstock or something. Good for you, pal, but I'm past my 30's, I need my beauty sleep. So, next time, just call. Like, on the phone, OK?"

I'm speechless, again. She renders me mute.

"You should give me your number then,” I can't hide my smile. Since our second exchange, I've been going up to Rowena's place more often than needed. But I didn't run into her, and it didn't feel right to ask her mother for her number. And I didn't want to stalk her either. But I suppose that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

"I thought you'd never ask,” she holds on to her cigarette with her lips, curled up in a smug, and gestures me to hand out my phone. I do so and she punches her number. Then she takes the phone to her ear and takes another draft. Cool. She wants to make sure she has my number as well. After a moment, she hangs up and gives me back my phone. "We should get back in, your soup is ready.” I follow her and I'm not surprised when I reach my table.

"Your soup is here, hon.” Jody didn't look up from her phone, so she missed Dana walking past us. I watched her go and join her family. I see the way her sister beams at her when she gets back and I can't fight a smile.

"What did I miss?" Jody asks me looking up from her phone.

"Nothing. I was craving soup.”

 

 

Later that day, I decide to text her and ask her out. I search her name on my contacts but I don't find her. Maybe she didn't save her name and just dialed her number. I go to the latest calls. Un. Fucking. Believable.

 

 

I don't reply to that. I can't. I ask for her address instead. And I call it a night.


	6. Flickering lights

I don't even have to knock on the door, Dana opens up and lets me in. No kiss, no hello, nothing. She's been like that for the last couple of weeks and I'm really frustrated. She walks back to her home office. I hung up my jacket and take off my shoes. I go over to the kitchen and set the kettle for some tea. While I wait for the water to boil, I start tidying up. It seems she has been slacking off. There are empty beer bottles on the counter and some dirty dishes in the sink. I take the bottles to the recycling bin and I assess the situation. She's been drinking a lot. I do the dishes and clean up a little more. I can hear her on the phone, an indistinct conversation but I can tell she is not happy. We had a good 3 month run and now I feel like we hit a wall. I make both a couple of tea, one of Rowena's special blends with lavender, chamomile, mint and other herbs I can't yet distinguish. I sit on the sofa with my cup and I leave hers on top of the coffee table. She gets back to the living room some time later. She looks tired, stressed and I think she is kinda pissed too.

"I told you I had work to do,” she sits down and I hand her the tea. She looks at the mug and gets really pissed off. "Yeah, like that's gonna help.” I gesture again, keeping my poker face, but she stands up and marches to the kitchen. She comes back with a glass of vodka and sits back down. She takes a few sips without looking at me. Shit.

"You are avoiding me and I really don't like it. If you want to call it off, just say so.” I learned soon enough that brutal honesty was the only way around her. Nonetheless, I think I've should have phrased it differently.

"I want to call it off,” she says. And my heart plummets to my feet.

"Cool. Why?"

"Do I need to have a reason?"

"You don't need one. But I would like to know what’s going on."

"Why?"

"We are adults. We can talk things through. I know something happened, but I don't know what. So, please, would you talk to me? Just tell me. Please.”

I can tell she is trying to hold up her ground. She runs a hand through her hair and then she stands up again. I watch her walk up to the window, to her smoking spot. She grabs her cigarettes case, takes one out, opens the window and lights it up. She takes her time, as usual. I can tell she’s struggling. I pitch in, if only to break the silence.

"Is this about the barbecue? Because you don't have to go if you don't want to.” Jody invited us over for a barbecue next Saturday; maybe I rushed things a little. We never discussed our relationship status. Maybe that's it.

She huffs.

"What is it? Just tell me so I can do something.” She is holding back. I don't know what exactly, but there is definitely something. And then, slowly but surely, something cracks inside of her. Something deep and terrifying gets a hold on her and my heart breaks for her. Fuck. I think I'm falling for her. No, I'm sure I am. And I don't want to walk away on us; I don't want to call it off. I really, really want to be with her. But if she keeps pushing me away, what can I really do? If she doesn't want me, then what?

"Stop! Just stop!" She yells and three things happen simultaneously. First, she yelled. I never even heard her raise her voice, never mind shout. So, I'm taken aback. Second, the glass she left on the coffee table flown across the room smashing into the wall. Third, the lights went out. And then, I'm up on my feet, looking around because I could swear I saw someone, something, on my peripheral vision. What. The. Fuck.

"Stay there,” I say and I walk to get the flashlight out of my jacket. Lucky enough, the glass smashed on the other side of the room, so there is no danger for me walking barefooted. However, I do feel like we are both in danger. I have my gun with me, of course, but I know that's even more dangerous. I get the flashlight and point the light to the floor before aiming to where Dee is standing by the window. Only that she is not there. I freak out for a second before I make out her shape sitting on the sofa. She didn't even make a sound, like a fucking ghost.

"Do you have candles?" I walk over to the sofa.

"Of course not. They are a fire hazard. Just give me a minute.” I stand by the sofa not really sure what to do. I hear her shuffle. She still has her cigarette with her. I see the light of the ember going brighter and dimmer, as she smokes. Silence stretches out. I realize my heart rate is a little high. I keep looking around, just in case. After a moment, the lights are back.

It takes a moment to get use to the light. I turn off the flashlight and I sit on the sofa next to her. Whatever happened, I notice she recovered the composure. Her face is set on a neutral tone. She finishes her cigarette and tosses the bud on my empty mug.

"That's what I'm talking about. I lose my shit around you. I just can't control myself,” she is playing with her ring while avoiding my gaze.

"Look---" I start, but she raises her hand.

"Please, let me finish,” she sighs. "The thing is I really like you, Sam. But this, what just happened here, this is nothing compared to what...” She lets out a weary sigh and runs a hand through her hair. She looks at me with eyes shining from unshed tears. "Sammy, I'm not alone in this. It's not just me and what I can do,” she is holding back information. I can tell she is. "I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't. I really can't. You have to believe me and take my word on this. The last thing I want to do is hurt you... It's just that... This isn't even about the soup thing or you unconsciously reaching out to me or me knowing when you are near. There is so much more to it, and I'm really scared because I really can't control myself around you. And if I let go, if I lose my grip, I will end up hurting you. And I don't mean I will hurt your feelings. I mean I will hurt you. Or worse.” She’s telling me the truth. I know that much. But I also know she’s not telling me everything. She’s deliberately holding up things. And for the sound of it, it's something big and bad. "Oh, it's bigger and worse than you can imagine, babe.” She did it again. She can really see right through me. That means she also knows I'm really into her. Good.

"Are you giving me the heads up or are you ditching me?" I want to know if I have a saying in all this.

"I don't know.” She sounds tired and defeated but her face doesn't change.

"Look, we will figure it out together.” I promise.


	7. Rodeo Night

I'm pacing like a mad man. Rowena is sitting on one of the chairs in the waiting room. She’s calmer than I would have expected. I'm a mess. This is triggering memories and I'm too exhausted to handle them properly. So, I think of Sophie. I try to focus on her. I imagine her holding my hand just as she does in my process. That seems to help. After pacing around a few more minutes, I manage to sit down.

"This isn't my first rodeo nor hers, Samuel. She'll come through. She always does.” I stare at her, puzzled. Rowena holds my gaze and smiles. "Every now and then, Dana loses her grip and something happens. It happened a lot when she was a younger. Then, she got better at it, so...” She trails off. "Wanna tell me what happened?” Rowena isn't pushing, not really, but I feel way to embarrassed to talk about it. I don't even know what happened. "C'mon Samuel, you can tell me,” she reassures me. I'm not so sure about that.

 

 

We are having sex, at my place. Let me rephrase that. We are fucking each other's brains out. What had started as a make out session on the couch turned into a something entirely different. Dana is devouring me, riding me slow and hard, her mouth hungry, demanding, her hands clasped around my hair, tugging me, directing my head to better suit her kisses. I'm losing my fucking mind, tripping over the edge of orgasm, my hand clenching her back, her waist, her butt. I'm so hungry for her.

 

 

"We were... Um..." I trail off. I think Rowena got my drift and gesture me to continue.

 

 

Dana moans softly in my ear, her faltering breath warm against my skin. "You are such a good boy,” she nibbles my earlobe. She likes to talk to me; she likes to tell me what a good boy I am. And I fucking love it. "You are so good for me,” she trails kiss down my jaw and neck. Her voice is a deep growl and triggers something in me, something ravenous. I just can't have enough. I spin her over to her back, taking control of the rhythm, picking up the pace. She laughs, and my heart does that thing. It skips a beat. With her nails digging into my scalp, she grasps a handful of my hair and tilts my head to the side, exposing my neck. I groan. And then she bites my shoulder. She bites me hard. The pain throws me over the edge as I climax. But I keep moving, thrusting into her, I'm not done yet. And a moment later, she reaches her own orgasm with a loud moan. She closes tight around me, pulsing, and I keep coming. I look for her mouth, and I kiss her, desperately, I'm not done yet. Her mouth has a metal after taste, and I know she bit me hard enough to draw blood. That sends me over the edge again. I'm ecstatic. Finally, I collapse on top of her. I'm in shock and awe. I hear her chuckle beneath me but her voice sounds off. I open my eyes. I search for her gaze. What I see staring back at me pulls me out of the daze.

"Dee, love?" I prop myself up. She smiles back but it's not really her. Her lips are spattered with blood, my blood. Whatever it is, I know it's not my girlfriend. And then whatever it was, it's gone, and I see Dana's face, confusion giving way to panic. She looks at my shoulder and takes her hand to her lips.

"Dee, you OK?" I asked trying to sound calm, but I can tell something is wrong. Really wrong.

"What the fuck?" She whimpers.

"Hey, it's OK,” I try to reassure her. But she shoves me off her and struggles to sit up.

"What the fuck?" She tries to get on her feet but she's shaking all over and stumbles with the coffee table. I call out to her, trying to hold her, but she doesn't want me anywhere near her. "What the fuck!?" This time she is almost screaming. "Did I just bite you?" She’s freaking out, I think she’s having a panic attack. She starts fighting to breath. I try to get to her again, I'm afraid she will pass out right there but she keeps her arms stretch out ahead of herself, gesturing me to stay back.

"Dee, you are hyperventilating, you need to calm down or you'll pass out,” I have my hands up, like she is a wounded animal and I don't want to scare her away, and she is looking at me like I'm about to shoot her.

"You need to stay the fuck away from me,” she blurts out and I feel even worse, because that's exactly the opposite of what I want to do. "Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick,” she gags and storms off to the bathroom. I feel stupid standing in the middle of my living room naked. So I fetch my boxers and my jeans. I hear Dana throwing up in the bathroom. I put my underwear and my pants and I hurry over the bathroom. The door is ajar but I don't walk in. I wait for her to reemerge on her own. I can hear her breath with some difficulty. Eventually, she stands up and goes to the sink. She gets the water running and rinses her mouth a couple of times. Her breathing is more stable, I think, but she looks pale and shaky.

I'm standing three feet away from her and it takes a hell lot of will power to keep my distance. She’s looking down, leaning on the sink, with her hands on each side. Her grip is so tight that her knuckles are white.

"Love, are you OK?" I whisper.

"Fuck no,” she says and her voice cracks. She starts sobbing. And that's it; I'm not keeping my distance. But as soon as I step forward, the door closes shut, by itself. Now it's my turn to freak out. I try the knob but it won't open. I knock.

"Dee, open the door, let me in,” I try to sound calm, again. But I'm past calm and reassuring. I can hear her crying, now it's not a subtle sob but a full on vocal cry. I freak out even more, now I'm banging at the door. I keep asking her to let me in. "Please let me in, baby, please open up.” I can hear her cry even louder. And then she screams

 _Sam! Get me out! Get me out of here!_  

and now I'm panicking because it doesn't make any sense. I walk away from the door. I can feel something is happening inside and I'm really scared. Dana stops crying. I hear a thud. Fuck. I kick the door with all that I have. But it won't give in. And then I feel it. The anger, the impotence, the hot blinding rage, it's bubbling up, taking over me. I won't stand by and watch her get hurt. No. Fucking. Way.

I kick the door a second time. The hinges shook, the lock gives in.

To my horror, Dana is passed out on the floor. The floor is flooded and the whole bathroom smells like still water and decay. I reach for her and I realize with dread that she’s cold, freezing cold. I scoop her up, and I rush to the living room. I lay her down on the couch and check for her pulse. It's weak. Her breathing is shallow. I keep calling her name, shaking her but she won't wake up. I run to the bedroom and I tear the cover of the bed and get back to her. I wrap the cover around her, she’s so cold. I put on my sweater, my shoes. I look for my car keys, and I carry her to my car.

I keep talking to her the whole time. "C'mon baby, wake up, please wake up, come back to me, it's ok, you’re going to be ok, but you have to wake up, please baby, you’re scaring the shit out of me, babe, c'mon, wake up, please, stay with me, please.”

 

 

"I drove here. I was so scared,” I finish. "I'm still scared.”

Rowena looks at me apprehensive. "I'm gonna ask Pamela to take a look at your house if you don't mind,” she says.

"Why?" I ask.

"Well, something happened in that bathroom. Maybe it is still lingering.” She sounds matter of fact.

"You know what happened, don't you?" I try not to sound defensive but I'm past the cryptic talk.

"Well, this happened before, if that's what you mean,” she rolls up her sleeve and shows me what I can only describe as a biting mark on her left forearm. "Dana bit me when she was seven years old. She drew blood. When I say Dana bit me I'm not really saying _Dana_ bit me. She _looked_ like her but it was definitely not my Dana. I don't know what it is really. But I know it’s always lurking around, among other things. There’s so much more about my daughter, it's terrifying. I don't even know how to begin to understand,” Rowena trails off, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she snaps out of it. "I'm gonna call Pam now, if that's ok with you.”

"Yeah sure,” I say but I really don't care. I just want to see Dana.

Rowena steps out of the waiting room.

I'm starting to feel sick. I try to focus on Sophie's, her tiny hand on mine. With my nausea residing, I start to feel her instead. I feel a tug in my ring finger.

 

_Hold on to her, Daddy. Hold on._

 

I hear Sophie's voice in my head. And I do as she says.

 

 


	8. Terms and Conditions

I park my car down the street. Dana lives in the middle of nowhere; her house stands alone in a big lot. It's modern, clean, all straight lines. It stands out like a sore thumb. When I'm a few steps away from the door, she swings the door open.

"I thought I felt a disturbance in the Force,” she bats her eyelashes and puts on a dashing smile. She’s wearing dark jeans, boots and a black tee. Her hair is down. She looks terrific. And edgy.

I kiss her cheek and she lets me in. Her house has an open floor plan and a minimalist decor. Either that or she just bought it. I spot a glass of dark liquor on the kitchen island counter.

"Nice place,” I say and I turn around to face her. She’s staring right at me, eyes piercing.

"Thanks,” she says. "Wanna a drink before we go?” She walks to the kitchen and grabs hers.

"No, I'm OK, thanks.” She nods, and takes a sip. She gestures one of the stalls. I sit down.

"Are you a recovering alcoholic?" She asks without hesitation.

"Uhm, no. I mean, I used to drink more, before, uhm, I had a rough couple of years, before the accident. And then, after the car crash, I had to sober up. I'm definitely doing a lot better now and I just want to keep it that way, you know?" I trail off.

“I know your daughter passed away in the school shooting. I'm sorry." 

"Thanks. Yeah, that kinda was the trigger of everything. But also, after that, Jess and I, we, we divorced. I just... Drifted.” I wasn't planning on having this heart to heart conversation right before our first date. However, I realize it's easier than I would have expected. I don't feel like I had to overthink things or be careful about what I am about to say next. 

"But you always had it, right? The extra ingredient?"

"Pamela said maybe it was set off by the accident.”

"Maybe. I have the feeling you were always something more.” She’s assessing me, like when I first met her two months ago back at Rowena's.

"I don't know." I think about it thought. Dad used to say I was very intuitive. Rufus said it's a Winchester thing, like it runs in the family but I don't think he meant it this way. "What about you? What can you do besides helping others with their problems?" I can't hide my curiosity and I instantly regret it because I notice she gets uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to step any boundaries.”

"Actually, I'm glad you asked. Honestly, I try not to get involved in anything _otherworldly_. Sometimes I help. But that's not my thing.”

"You helped me,” I venture.

"Yes, and that will backfire anytime now.”

"What do you mean?" I try not to sound defensive but I'm not sure I succeed. She takes another sip.

"Look. I'm glad we are having this conversation and I'm glad we are about to go on a date. I think we---I _hope_ we get along. It's just, I'm not like you, Sam. You’re all about saving people, hunting bad guys, and I think that's very high-minded, but that's not me. That's not my job. That's certainly not the way I want my life to be. That's why I want to make sure that it's not going to be a problem between us. What I mean is I can't be part of what you do.” Her tone is matter of fact. She’s negotiating the terms and I feel this isn't her first rodeo. I'm screwed.

"Oh. I see. Well, I'm new at this so I can't really control it. I'm so sorry I reached out to you the other day, I didn't mean to,” I feel like I'm babbling. She raises her hand, gesturing me to stop talking.

"You are not following. I said I can't be part of what you do. I didn't say that I don't want to be part of what you’re becoming. I like who are, Sam, all of it, and I don't expect you to be ahead of the game. And I'll help you as far as I can, that's OK by me if it's OK with you too. I just wanna make sure that you understand that I will not get involved in your crusades.” She finishes her drink in one gulp.

She said she likes me.

"I understand.”

"Good. Because that's my only deal breaker. And I mean it.” She’s dead serious, I wonder if this happened before.

"I understand,” I assure her.

"You promise?" Now she sounded hopeful and I couldn't help to feel like I was promising way much more.

"I promise.” I replied.

"Great. Good talk, buddy. I'm starving. Should we head out?" Her smile was broad and bright but didn't reach her eyes.

"Sure.” I say.

Shit.

Game on.

 

 

 

Dana is self-confident and very vocal about who she is and what she wants. When we got into the car, she told me she was bisexual, very focused on her career and not very used to long term or exclusive relationships, but open minded about it nonetheless. She said this was an appendix to the previous “talk.” I listened and nodded. I had already told her I was divorced, so I added that it was my first date after a really long time and I was a little bit nervous to be honest. She laughed. It was a pristine and joyful sound.

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I don't bite,” she glanced at me and wiggled her eyebrows. "Not without your consent, at least."

"Thanks for the heads-up?" I tried to sound casual but my imagination run wild for a second.

"Fuck, Winchester. You already got ideas. Mmmm... This is gonna be so much fun." She licked her lips and I had to force my attention to the road. 

Dana chose a really nice pub called Rocky’s, I think she called ahead and made a reservation because we had a really nice table by the corner. Dana recommended the burgers and a beer called “The Space Cowboy” but I stick to a soda, I wanted a clear head. It was surprisingly easy to talk with her, like we were only catching up instead of getting to know each other. When the food arrived, I watched her moaned over her burger like it was nectar for the gods. I laughed a lot, she’s funny. Not so good in comebacks, and her puns are horrible, but she’s good with sarcastic and sassy remarks. We lingered a long while after the food was gone and I suggested we catch a movie. She smiled, leaned over the table, and gesture me to get closer. She whispered: “Forget about the movie, Winchester. I want to get in your pants, like, yesterday.” We paid the check and left.

I drove back to her place feeling very aware of everything, but she was playing very, very cool. She kept talking about stuff; I could tell she was trying to get me comfortable. When we arrived to her place, I was crawling inside my skin. She asked me to leave my shoes by the door and we took our jackets and hung them in the closet. Ok, she’s really tidy. She took my hand and led the way to the living room and sat me down on a really fancy sofa. She left me there and walked over to the bar and poured two shots. She came back and handed me one.

“You need to relax, Sam. I’m gonna take good care of you. Stop worrying,” her voice was really warm.

I chugged the tequila shot and winced. She smirked and drank hers, not wincing at all. She took the shot glass from my hand and placed them both on the coffee table behind her. Then, she took her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and looked for something. Suddenly, music started playing all around us. The rhythm was slow, leisure, the bass deep and the voices were sensual and very soft. It was definitely a _let’s fuck_ playlist. She left her phone on the table and turn around to look at me. She was eyeing me carefully, like really looking at me. And then I saw she hesitated for a split second. She was second guessing, I saw the wheels turning in her mind. I could see the exact moment when she made up her mind and the doubt was gone. Her eyes turned hungry. She leaned closer to put her hands on my shoulders and then she straddled me.

“OK, Sammy, I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s OK with you,” she whispered in my ear as she dug her fingers on the back of my head. I nod. So she proceeded to kiss me, very, very, excruciating, slow, teasing me with the tongue and her teeth. She was imposing an impossible pace. She wanted for me to relax. Was I relaxed? Of course not. I was a fucking mess. She broke off the kiss and search for my eyes. “Sammy, be a good boy for me and try to relax,” she massaged the back of my head and neck. “Just breathe, baby, just breathe,” her voice was very soft and soothing. That did something to me, I’m not sure what exactly but I felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders and the knot on my stomach was undone. I took a deep breath and I lifted my hands to caress her thighs. “That’s it, baby, just let go,” she resumed with the kissing and I melted into her touch. We kissed for a very long time. I could tell only because of the subtle changes of the music playing in the background. At some point, she asked if she could take off my shirt and I nodded. After that, we picked up the pace. My dick was throbbing by now, so I asked her if we could go to the bedroom. She said yes and led the way. Her bedroom had a huge floor to ceiling window covering a whole wall. It was really impressive bedroom. The lights were dim and the music followed us. 

"Wanna undress me?" She bat her eyelashes.

"Yes, please." I immediately replied and she chuckled.

"Go ahead," she licked her lips.

I took off her shirt first and then I got down on my knees to take her jeans. She was wearing matching black lacey bra and boy shorts. I gaped at her. She scoffed and shook her head.

"Fuck. You look so hot on your knees." She run a hand through my hair. "And your eyes look like fucking sunflowers."

Now it's my time to scoff.

"Now I think it's my turn."

She took her time to undress me, and as she did so, she told me exactly what she wanted to do to me, how she wanted to do it, and for how long. Dana was very verbal the whole fucking time and she kept asking for my permission, for my consent, for my opinion. She kept asking me “Do you like this?” or “Is this good?” and it wasn’t rhetorical or _porn talk_. She _wanted_ to know. In turn, she told me what she wanted and guided me through the whole process. I had never been with a woman so aware of her body and tuned in with her desire and pleasure. It was so fucking hot, that kind of feedback was priceless. At the same time, I was truly unaware of how I had been neglecting myself. I never thought I could keep up with her insatiable hunger, but surprisingly, I did. What a beautiful and devastating fuck marathon we had. Saturday came and left in a blur. We slept and eat at ridiculous hours and just talked and fucked each other senseless. I wake up sometime on Sunday late afternoon, I could tell because of the light coming through the window wall. I take a moment to think and be grateful for this beautiful day.

 

“Sammy?” She kisses my shoulder.

“Hmm?” I not sure I can even speak.

“Do you have to go to work tomorrow?” She caresses my jaw with the tips of her fingers.

“Oh, damn, yeah,” I stretch and then turn around to face her. “You?” I kiss her nose.

“I have to catch a flight, yes,” she keeps touching my face. I take that as my queue and I sit up.

“What are you doing?” She raises her voice a little.

“I’m…,” I hesitate, “going home?” I frown. I can see she’s a little disappointed.

“I thought…,” she trails off. “Would you like to go grab a bite? Not that I’m complaining, but we haven’t left the house all weekend…” She shrugs and I can’t help smiling.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“Cool. Also, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. I mean, I can set the alarm really early so you’ll have time to go back home, change and go to work,” she says in a rush.

Oh.

“Yes, I’d like that too,” I lie back down and kiss her.

"Cool, because I'm not ready to let you go yet." She whispers in my ear as she slides her hand down my stomach. 

"I don't think I can do another round, Dee."

"That's curious. Your dick seems to disagree." She bites my earlobe as she closes her hand firmly around my cock. And that's all it takes.

"I take it back," I whisper and she huffs.

"That's my boy."

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I get to the station on Monday morning, I feel tired but energized. Dana set the alarm really early and we had enough time to take a shower and have really hot shower sex at the crack of dawn, but not enough time to have breakfast. We shared a deep and bittersweet goodbye kiss. I went back home and change into my uniform and head to the station. I haven’t been able to stop smiling like a fool and I'm sure I'm walking funny.

“Morning, Sam,” Jody greets me from the break room.

“Hey Jody, how---,” I walk in and Jody is opening a box full of pastries. There’s a paper holder tray with two cups. “Did you buy breakfast?”

She shakes her head and smiles mischievously. She hands me a note.

“This _just_ got here with this note,” Jody says almost chuckling. I take the paper.

_Enjoy breakfast._

 

“So, is there something you wanna tell me?” She says and pushes me lightly. I grin like an idiot. “This one has your name,” she adds and hands me the cup.

 

 _Sammy_.

 

“This one is mine,” she holds up a cup and shows me. _Sheriff Mills._ “And I’m pretty sure this is tea for Kat,” Jody adds.

“Oh,” that’s not weird.

“So, who send this? And how does she know how I take my coffee?” Jody asks me. “Are you dating Pamela?”

“No, no, I’m not dating Pam. She would eat me alive,” I take a sip at my coffee. Of course it’s _just_ perfect. We hear Kat coming in.

“Hey guys--Uh! Breakfast!” She says leaning over the box full of treats.

“Here, Kat, your tea,” Jody hands her the cup.

“Oh, perfect, just what I needed,” she says.

“Courtesy of Sam’s mysterious friend,” Jody teases me.

I’m pretty sure I blushed like a teenager.

 

 

 

Holly. Cow. I’m screwed. Also, I need to change Dana's name on my phone. But not just yet. I like the sound of it. Maybe to much. Fuck. I'm so screwed.


	9. Things that go bump in the night

I've been having this horrible dream for some time now.

 

I'm standing in the corner, watching Dee sleep. It's not our room, it's somewhere else, and I don't like it at all. I feel she is far away, even if I'm standing right there, I know she is out of my reach. She is sleeping on her side, hugging the pillow, like she sometimes does. The room is dim, like that moment just before dawn. Sometimes I can hear the sound of waves in the distance. Sometimes I can smell  rain and wilderness.

I'm watching her sleep and suddenly I realized she's not alone. I feel rather than see that someone, something, is sleeping next to her. And it's not me. That can't be right. I'm more worry than jealous, but I'm jealous all the same. Everything is off, it's freaking me out. He is pressed against her back, spooning her, like I would, and that's just utterly wrong. I can't really see him; he is a faceless shape by her side. With dread I watch how he moves his hand around her waist, pulling her closer, possessively, to finally rest his hand above her womb. Dee let's out a little moan. Is she OK with this? I most certainly am not. I want to torch this fucker. I hate him. I want to kill him. I hate how he touches her, it's making me sick. I focus on his hand, trying to push it away from her with my willpower alone. But I can't, I can't do shit about it. He has claimed her. I can feel a red hot fury bubbling up, making its way from my gut to my throat. His hand is dirty. He is touching Dee with a filthy hand.

Sometimes it looks like it's just dirt, like he dug something up. Sometimes looks like soot. Sometimes looks like dry blood. Sometimes it’s black goo. Sometimes it's all of the above. However, it always ends up the same. Dee opens her eyes and stares right at me, eyes filled with dread. She knows I'm there. She opens her mouth, I know she wants to say something, but instead of words, a huge spider crawls out of her mouth. And then I know. Death has claimed her.

 

 

I wake up with a jolt. I instinctively reach for her. Thank God, she’s there. Yes, I've seen him. I know who he is. I try to calm down. I focus on Dee's breathing. She’s fast asleep besides me. She’s on her side, facing me. Her broken arm resting on a pillow between us.

I stare. She has dark circles around her eyes. Her mouth is partially open. I lean in and kiss her softly. I linger, breathing her in. I feel her smile under my lips. I break off.

"Hey,” she says half awake. "What was that for?” She asks and moves closer.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”

"Not complaining.”

I kiss her again, more thoroughly.

"Wait, wait, let me just....” Dee moves the pillow between us and climbs on top of me. "Stupid arm,” she says, and kisses me. I slid one hand under her shirt, the other one cupping her face. She trails little kisses down my jaw, my neck, my cheeks, my nose. I shudder. I can’t shake the nightmare away.

"Babe, what is it?" Her tone is apprehensive. I feel sick. “Tell me,” she sits up straddling on my lap.

"I had a nightmare." I take a deep breath and try to get my shit together. I don't want to upset her, but I feel like shit. I can feel her body tense up although her breathing is even, controlled. She's fully awake now.

"The spider,” she mutters. How can she possibly know that? I try to sit up but she presses her left hand firmly on my chest to keep me down. How does she even know about the spider? I didn't know she could do that. I remember the other spider, the real one. It’s just as disturbing as the one in my nightmare.

"You are freaking me out,” I say laying back down.

"Well, tough shit.” She scorns me but I feel her body relax again. She leans in and kisses me again, but this time it's hard, demanding, possessive. "Undress me,” she commands. I hesitate for a second, then I do as she says. I'm extra careful with her arm, and get the shirt out of the way. She is not wearing a bra. I reach out and kiss her breasts. "I'm not naked yet,” she admonishes me. There is no way I'm going to take off her pajamas shorts while in this position.

"You need to roll over."

"Ask nicely,” her tone is sharp.

"Would you roll over, please?" I ask. And just like that, I'm already hard, and I know she can feel it.

"Roll me over. Gently,” she commands and I try to do so looking out for her arm. Once I get her on her back, I tug my thumbs on the waistband and get her pajamas bottoms out of the way. I'm about to go down on her but she grasps me by the hair and tugs my head up. “Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” she says sternly. "Take off your shirt.” I do what she says. "Boxers," she adds. I take them off. "Get me back up.” I carefully scoop her up; I know her ribs still hurt. I'm definitely hard, already aching for her. "Lay back. Hands off. And stay still," she orders me. She takes her time to get into a comfortable position. I clench the sheets into fists. She takes me in slowly, tight and hot. I let out a growl.

"I want to touch you,” I beg.

"Ask nicely,” she admonishes.

"May I touch you, please?" I whimper.

She takes my left hand and places it on her hip bone. Then she takes my right and places it on her left breast. "There,” she says, "and keep them there, understand?" I nod. "Use your words, Samuel,” she commands with the same hard tone.

"Yes, I understand.” I'm tripping. She's the only one who can do this to me.

"Good boy,” I can hear her smile. She places her hands to my sternum and starts moving, slowly, thoughtful. Her breathing is calm and collected. She is testing the waters. I caress her breast, rubbing my thumb over her nipple. My left hand is firmly clasp on her hip bone. After a moment, she gradually picks up the pace, rocking back and forth, her breathing deep and steady. She’s completely focus and resolute and I'm losing myself into her. I move my right hand up to her neck; I want to bring her down for a kiss.

"You are misbehaving" she bickers but leans towards anyways and lets me kiss her. Then she pushes me back down and pins my right hand to the side. "What am I going to do with you?" She wonders out loud. I feel her tighten around me and I know I'm close to climax. "You are not allowed to come just yet,” she coldly instructs me and slows down to a halt. "Understand?" She is waiting for my reply. I nod.

"Words." She rebukes.

"I understand,” I say out of breath. She takes my hand and places it on her ass and then leans forward, placing her hand on the mattress for support. I can feel her breasts gently grazing against my chest. I moan trying to catch my breath. And then she starts moving again all the while looking at me intently. I can’t really see her eyes, the room is dim, but I can feel them. I can feel her gaze burning into me. I need to kiss her, taste her but I hold on. Instead, I arch my head up.

I'm on the edge but I'm waiting for her permission to come.

"That's it,” her voice is thick and deep like a thunder. "Good boy, you are such a good boy,” she teases me. I jerk my hip up to meet her thrusts, and I let out a painful ‘fuuuuuuck’. She chuckles and nips my chin. I lower my head, hungry for her mouth but she keeps teasing me, not engaging. Instead, she hovers above my mouth, teasing me with her tongue and her teeth. I'm barely keeping it together, as she comes, contracting deliciously around me. "Now you can come,” she says in a labored command. I do as she says, and I come hard, my back arching up. "That's it, good boy. You are such a good boy for me,” she whispers in my ear. I let go another ‘fuuuuuuck’. She laughs and pets my hair. "Good boy,” she keeps saying. And the orgasm keeps rippling through us.

 

 

 

After a while, she dozes off. I get up and head up to the bathroom. I clean myself with a damp towel. I get the hot water running and damp another towel. I get back to bed and wake up Dee gently.

"Let me clean you up,” I ask and she nods. I reach between her legs and softly pad her clean.

"How are you feeling? Do you want some water?"

"My chest hurts.”

"Do you want some painkillers?"

"Yes please.”

"Ok, be right back.”

I fetch a glass of water from the kitchen and get back to her. She sits up halfway and I hand her the water. I go back to the bathroom to get the pills. I open the cabinet and search for the right bottle. I pop the lid open and get to two in my hand. I get back to her and hand her the pills. She takes them with some water. She gives me back the glass and I leave it on the nightstand.

"Can you find my shirt? I'm a little cold.”

"Sure.” I look for her shirt and find it on the floor next to her pajamas bottoms. I help her get them both on. I put my boxers on too. The bedroom is a little chilly. I adjust the sheets and the blanket.

"Do you want me to get another blanket?"

"No, I'm OK" she says laying back down. I climb in.

"Little spoon?" I ask.

"Big spoon,” she replies. I grab the extra pillow and face the wall. Dee gets behind me, and put her casketed arm around me onto the extra pillow. I mimic her, hugging the pillow as well. She’s pressed tight against me; I feel her breath on my neck. She presses a soft kiss on my nape.

"I got you, babe,” she assures me so intently that I can't help but to melt into her embrace. I'm a very lucky man.

"I love you,” I kiss her fingers.

"You better,” she chuckles and kicks me softly under the covers.

My heart does that thing. No. Dana does that thing to my heart. I'm a very lucky man. I drift off into a deep and dreamless slumber.

 

 


	10. The Mystic Arts of Arthropoda Enchantment and Ophidian Interpretation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to incorporate some Scottish "bad words" I imagine Grandma Hilda would say.
> 
> Recommend reading: "The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death" by Charlie Huston.

We are having a Sunday BBQ over at Jody’s. It's hot outside; the sun is coming down bright and hard. Jody’s wife, Donna, is inside with Tasha and Asa. Jody is handling the meat. I'm standing next to her, giving moral support over the huge grill. She's commenting on something, but my attention is focus on Dee. She is sitting over the swings set talking to Jody’s elder, Claire. I'd never seen Claire interact with people in general, especially after she got into high school a couple of years ago. Yet, there she is, talking nonstop with Dee. Dee is frowning, nursing a bottle of beer. Sometimes she asks Claire something, a quizzical expression on her face, and I see Claire moving her hands, then Dee nods and takes a sip. They even laugh.

"She is a miracle worker,” Jody says with a sigh. I turn around and I see her watching them as well. "I feel it's been ages since I heard Claire laughs, never mind interact with someone for more than five minutes. Where did you find her?” I smile, I can't help it.

"She found me,” I try not to sound corny, but I think it's safe to say that ship has sailed.

"Look at you, all giddy,” Jody nudges me and keeps looking at them. "I'm glad, Sam. You deserve it.” She gets back to the grill.

We hear some screams coming from the miniature house, where the kids are playing. Owen comes out and runs towards us.

"Mom! Mom! There is a huge spider under the toy box! It's HUGE, bigger than my hand!” Owen says tugging his mother in the direction of the play house.

"Ok, son, calm down. Sam, would you mind?"

"Sure, c'mon buddy, show me where it is,” I ask him while walking towards the little house. We walk past Claire and Owen tells her all about the spider.

"I know, I'm going to grab a glass and a cardboard so we can get it out,” Claire explains walking toward the house. Alicia and Max, Tasha and Asa’s twins are standing outside the entrance, talking to Dana and pointing to where they saw the spider. Dana is listening carefully. I saw her jump to her feet when she heard the commotion.

"Hey, what's the situation?” I ask rubbing Dee’s lower back. They try to explain me all at once, pointing and gesturing. They were freaked out and excited. Dee remains quiet.

"Ok, I'm going in. You should get back,” I fake a serious tone and they all oblige, taking a few steps back. I hunch to get into the little wooden house, and lower myself to the ground to check the corner under the toy box. I can't see anything. I move it away from the wall and check behind. Fuck. That's a big ass spider. Owen was right; it is bigger than his hand.

"I have a glass and magazine here,” Claire says somewhere behind me.

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna work. I don't have enough room.” I look around; I can probably crush it with something. Then I notice Dee is oddly quiet, crouching by the door, hugging her knees. I pause. "What is it?” I ask silently. She gesture me to move away. There is no room for two grownups, so I step back out. She walks in and we all watch her in silence. She looks behind the toy box and then she reaches out with her hand. We all stay put. A moment passes by, and then, Dana gets up, huge spider sprawled comfortably in her hand, and gestures us to get out of her way. We are all gaping at her in awe. She stands upright and walks to the end of the backyard, where the property leaves way to a small wood. Like in a pagan procession of some sort, we follow her in utter silence up to the property limit. Dana walks into the woods and I lose track of her silhouette.

I feel a tug in my hand and I look down to see Max staring at me, eyes big in wonder.

"How did she do that?” He asks me, fascination dripping in every word. I look back at the trees, I look over to Claire, who’s still holding the glass and the magazine, now useless, and she looks back at me, her expression blank.

"I don't know,” I mutter.

"Is she coming back?” Alicia asks next.

I caught myself hesitating.

"Of course she is,” Claire replies instead, her tone dry.

We hold our ground for until we hear footsteps approaching. Dana emerges from the woods, as gracefully as a gazelle and quiet as a specter. The spell on us is broken.

"C'mon, let's go,” Claire prompts and the kids, reluctantly, get back. But not me. I'm transfixed by the whole thing. Finally Dee reaches me and meets my eyes. Her eyebrows shoot up. "What?” she asks me standing three feet away. I look behind, I see the kids on the swings set and Claire next to her mom. I look back at her.

"What was that?” I ask her, leaning closer, shortening the distance between us.

"What?” she bites back. She has to look up to meet my gaze. My intimidation tactics don't work on her. Never did. Never will. I open my mouth and then close it.

"You were going to kill it,” she shrugs off.

"How did you do it?” I grab her by the elbows, maybe a little too tight. She takes a deep breath and steps back jerking her arms to get out of my grip.

"Jeez, Samuel, take a chill pill, would you?” She glares and pushes me out of her way. I watch her get back to the house.

I though the kids would bring up the subject during the meal, but they didn't. Dana is sited on the other side of the table, she keeps avoiding my gaze and I can tell she is aware of mine. She keeps chatting with Claire, both of them deep in conversation. Once in a while, someone else asks her something and she replies diplomatically, keeping a warm smile plastered on her face. But its warmth doesn't reach her eyes.

 

 

 _Jellybean, take five_.

 

“Uncle Fergus?” The child says as she steps out of trance.

“Hey, sweetie, are you alright?” Fergus asks crouching by her side to level their eyes. No touching, those are the rules. His niece nods. “Good. May I see what you have there?” He gestures her hand. Dana looks down. That's odd. She opens her little hand. Her little bloody hand. She’s holding a piece of glass. Maybe a broken bottle. She looks up at him. Her expression is somewhat blank.

“Did I hurt somebody?” She asks with a neutral tone.

“You killed my dog, you monster!” His child screams from behind.

“Gavin, shut up and get back inside!” He yells louder than necessary. Gavin sobs loudly but turns around and runs back to the house.

Dana looks confused. “Did I kill Yellow?” She asks in a whisper. Fergus hesitates. He reaches out and takes the shard of glass from her hand and tosses it away.

“No, you didn't. I think you were trying to save Yellow.”

“Save him from what?” Fergus looks to the left. Dana follows his gaze. She sees the little shape of the dog lying on the grass. Yellow is very still.

“Let's clean you up, shall we?” He stands up and takes her good hand in his and they begin their way back home.

Rowena is waiting for them outside. Fergus can tell her expression is collected out of sheer practice. Dana walks quietly by his side.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Rowena smiles. “Let's take a look at that hand, shall we?” Dana looks at him like asking for permission to let go of his hand. Fergus smiles and lets go of her. Dana walks back inside with her mother.

 

Fergus takes his time to decide where to bury the dog. Once he made up his mind, it takes a minute to dig up a hole. It's a small dog. He places the dead dog on the ground and without another thought, he covers it up.

He takes his time to smoke a cigarette and decide what to do with the corpse of the adder. The viper Dana was chopping with a bloody broken glass. He reruns the scene in his mind. He can't help it.

Rowena joins him and sits by his side on the grass. He decides it's time to light up the joint.

“She told me she heard Yellow crying and found him with the snake.”

“I figured.” Fergus blows up the smoke. It will get dark soon.

“She thinks you're mad at her,” Rowena pads him on the shoulder. He hands her the joint.

“I'll talk to her.” He shakes his head and scoffs. Of course he's not mad at her.

“You should talk to Gavin as well.”

“And tell him what?” He wonders at loud.

“Whatever you want, Fergus.”

Rowena blows out rings of smoke.

“He's so bloody stubborn. I told him not to bring that ridiculous dog here, that he should leave him back home. But, no, why would he ever listen to me? Now I have a dead dog, a traumatized kid and soon enough an angry wife!”

Rowena laughs.

“Your wife is always angry, dear. Nothing to do there. You never told Gavin the story about Lucky?”

“I did, a million times. It's like talking to a wall. That kid, I swear...”

“So, what did you see?” Rowena hands back the joint.

“I didn't see anything.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I mean,” he takes another swing. “She looked different.”

“What did you do?”

“I said 'jellybean, take five’ and she snapped out of it.”

“Good. You sure you didn't see anything?”

“I'm sure.”

“Fine, don't tell me.” Rowena gets back up. “Salt and burn the snake. Throw the ashes in the ocean.”

“That’s it?” Fergus looks up to meet her eyes. Rowena shrugs.

“You should see what she can do with spiders.” She turns around and looks in the direction of the house. “Mother would be proud,” she chuckles. Rowena shakes her head at starts heading back. After a few steps, she turns around. “If you see or smell the Swamp Girl, let her to it. She likes to claim trophies.” And with that, she resumes her walk.

What the hell was she even talking about? He really should read Ketch's notebooks.

 

When he finally went back inside, Dana was reading a book on the kitchen table while Rowena was preparing supper. Dana's face lit up when he walked in and then she blushed and looked down at her book.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at her. “How's that hand?”

Dana looks back up and shows him the bandaged left hand. “It's alright, Mom said I don't need stitches,” she’s embarrassed. Her hair is braided and a little damp. Rowena must have bathed her and changed her clothes. There was an impressive amount of blood.

“Should we pick up some ice cream for dessert?” Fergus asks at loud. Dana looks at her mother and Rowena turns to look at him.

“Fine, but make it quick,” she points out and Dana is already up and running. “No running,” she whispers and Dana slows down.

Fergus grabs his wallet and they step out of the house in silence.

Before they make it through the gate, Dana holds his hand. A few steps down the road Dana sighs and clears her throat.

“Are you mad at me?” She asks and Fergus can't help smiling. Her niece doesn't fool around.

“I'm not mad at you. Why would I be mad at you?” He knows they're having a grown-up conversation.

“Because I killed the snake,” she replies not missing a beat.

“Why did you kill the snake?” He glances at her but they keep the pace.

“I got angry at her for hurting Yellow,” she explains.

“Did your mother tell you about Lucky?”

“Yes, the unlucky dog that got bitten by a viper in the chicken coop. That's why Grandma told you should have big dogs instead of small dogs. The venom kicks in faster with small animals. That's why it's also dangerous for cats.” Dana got the story. Good, there's hope in the world.

“Here at the country side, especially in springtime, the adders are very common. They are waking up after the winter months and they're hungry and ho---,” he stops himself.

“Horny, I know. They have to look for a mate so they can reproduce.”

“Exactly. What I mean is you shouldn't feel angry for a snake behaving like a snake and a stupid dog behaving like a stupid dog. It's not your fault Yellow got bitten. And you shouldn't take it personal with the snake that bit him.”

“What do you mean I shouldn't take it personal?”

“I mean you shouldn't get upset by the things others say or do, because you think that their remarks or behavior are directed at you in particular. Now, the behavior of the animals involved in this particular scenario had nothing to do with you. Do you understand that?”

“I think I do.”

“Next time something like this happens, promise me you won't intervene. Promise me you'll step back and call one of us and let us handle it, OK?” They reached the ice cream store but Dana hasn't promise anything at all. “Dana, you promise?” He stops before they walk inside the store.

“I understand what you're saying, but that snake… she was looking for me, uncle Fergus,” Dana whispers. Chills run down his spine. He lowers himself so they are at eye level.

“What makes you think it was?”

“She called my name,” Dana looks anywhere but at him.

“The snake called your name?” Dana looks at him now earnestly.

“No, the Wicked Woman called my name.”

“The Wicked Woman?”

“Yes, she likes to send me gifts sometimes.”

“The snake was a gift?”

“Yes, for me.”

“You heard her voice calling your name?”

“Not her voice, but yes. And not my name, not _this_ name.”

“What do you mean?”

“She didn’t call me _Dana, c’mere_. She used another name…”

“You have other names?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because we are many.”

Fergus looks around. He feels like the evening turned darker in a second.

“Are you scared?” Dana touches his face with puppy eyes.

“I am, a little.” Fergus sees no point in lying.

“Are you scared of me?” She makes a pout.

“No, I’m not scared of you. I'm worry about the one you call the Wicked Woman and sends you snakes as gifts.”

“She likes me,” Dana keeps caressing his face like his Mother used to do. He grabs her little hand and kisses it. He should be comforting her, not the other way around.

“You don't sound so happy about it,” he points out.

“Her attention can be overwhelming sometimes. But you don't need to worry,” she tries to smile.

“Does she send you spiders as well?”

“No!” She laughs like he just told her the funniest joke in the world.

“No?”

“No!” She pushes him a little bit. “That's---,” she restrains herself. She shakes her head. “That's my, um, my, um, sometimes, it’s Hilda.” She's hiding something.

“You mean my mother?” Holy shit.

“Yes, Grandma Hilda. We should get the ice cream.”

 

They are walking back home in silence.

“Grandma looks a lot like Mom.”

“She did. But it's the other way around. Your mom looks a lot like our mom when she was young.”

“She looks young now, too.”

“Does she?”

“Yes, she looks like the picture in her bedroom.”

“That’s her wedding portrait.”

“I know. She told me.”

When they arrived, the table is set and Rowena is scanning thought the book Dana was reading before. It's a battered copy of _The Secret Garden._

“You took your time,” she says putting the book down. “Fergus, fetch Gavin, would you? Pumpkin, let's put the ice cream away.”

Dana casts a glance at him and smiles. Fergus makes his way upstairs with dread. He always struggles when it comes to talk to his son, and he's not going to figure things out now. He suspects he never will. Besides, what could he possibly say? He knocks twice.

“Gavin, supper is ready.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You sure?”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

He goes back down. Rowena looks at him expectantly. Fergus shrugs.

“He says he's not hungry.” He makes his way to his place in the table. Rowena rolls her eyes and gets back to the kitchen. He knows she's fixing a tray for him.

“Can I sit in his place?” Dana whispers to him. Fergus nods and gestures her to change sits. She likes to sit next to her uncle in the big chairs. He ruffles her hair and makes sure she can reach the table. She doesn't, she's too short.

“Let me get you a pillow,” Fergus walks to the living room and comes back with two cushions. They try the best combination while Rowena walks upstairs with the food tray for Gavin.

“How do you feel?” He asks as her niece tries to sit up straight.

“I feel like a big girl,” she chimes. Fergus laughs and kisses her crown.

“Don't ever change, sweetheart.” Dana smiles warmly at him.

Rowena comes back down and she doesn't look happy.

“What are you doing sitting there?” Rowena asks squinting at both of them.

“She's a big girl,” Fergus shrugs.

“Is that so?”

“I feel like a big girl,” Dana frowns all serious. “I think I'm ready to sit here.”

“Well, if that's the case,” Rowena sits down. “I don't want to see you eating with your hands.”

“I think I can do that,” Dana looks at her uncle for reassurance. Besides, her hand it’s all messed up.

“That goes for both of you, Fergus,” Rowena hands him a plate with a portion of quiche. He turns to Dana and frowns like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dana smiles, all teeth and no eyes, and sits up straighter. “And you both need to eat your greens so…” Rowena passes the salad bowl.

“Yes, Mom,” Fergus whispers and Dana cracks up.

 

Fergus is showing Dana how to roll a cigarette in the patio. She’s savoring the last of his ice cream, cooped up in one of the wooden chairs with a blanket. It's a chilly night. She's really focus on his hands, trying to register the precise moves required for the task. Dana offered to take the lemon cookies they bought for Gavin (due to the strange and ridiculous fact that he doesn't like ice cream) but Rowena thought it was better for her to do it. So she went back up with a cup of tea, a glass of milk and a bowl full with cookies. That gave Fergus plenty of room to serve a ton of ice cream for themselves. Of course, after finishing her bowl of ice cream Dana moved to what was left of Fergus’.

“You have an endless appetite for ice cream, haven't you?” Fergus shows her the finished product. With the spoon still in her mouth, Dana hands him the empty bowl and grabs the cigarette.

“Hilda says I have an endless appetite for destruction,” Dana turns the cigarette up and down. “This looks like the ones you buy at the store!” She's amazed by the craft. She hands it back to him.

“That's what my mother used to say about me.” He takes back the cigarette and puts it in his metal case.

“Yes, she's says we look a lot alike. _Cast in the same fire pit_ …”

“That sounds like her.” Fergus laughs. “You see her often?” He starts rolling another cigarette.

“Sometimes,” she sticks her neck trying to get a better look at it. Fergus licks the paper and rolls it up.

“Voila!” He hands it back to her.

“Can I try?” She hands it back.

“Of course, come here.” He makes room for Dana to sit between his legs facing the table. She leaves the blanket all excited and sits with her back to him.

“First you take a paper,” Fergus begins explaining the process hovering above her. Dana mimics his every move. The first one was a disaster, but that was expected. By the third one, Rowena joins in.

“What are you doing?” She asks and Fergus shows her the third cigarette Dana rolled in her own.

“She's getting the idea,” he points out. “This is only the third one.” Rowena nods and grins.

“She's a natural,” she takes the cigarette in her hands. “Do you mind?” She sits down in the chair Dana was using and wraps herself with the blanket she left behind. Dana hands her the lighter without taking her eyes from the tobacco she’s taking out of the tin for the next cigarettes. “Thank you, Pumpkin.” She lights the cigarette and smiles. It's a fine cigarette.

“Gavin thinks I killed the dog, doesn't he?” She fiddles with the tobacco on the paper between her fingers.

“He had that impression, yes,” Rowena exchanges looks with her brother.

“I tried to keep the dog away when I realized what was happening.”

“That’s not the problem. He saw what you did to the viper, Dana. It was a gruesome scene to behold.”

“I'm sure he felt that way. Did you tell him the snake was an offering for me and that I can do with my gifts whatever I see fit?” Dana licks the paper, rolls it, and hands the cigarette to Fergus stretching her arm over her shoulder.

“No, I didn't tell him _that_.” Rowena rolls her eyes.

“Why not? It's the truth.” Dana begins working in another piece.

“Because your offering killed his dog, Dana, that's why. He's upset and needs comforting, not a lecture.”

“He should take comfort in the truth.”

“ _His dog died_ , that's the truth.”

“I know. I was there.” Dana's voice got harder and edgier. “I didn't do it, Rowena. I didn't kill his _hackit_ dog. He shouldn't have brought it here in the first place. He knew about Lucky. And it's not my bloody fault his dad likes me better than him, if I may address the fuckin’ elephant in the room. But, hey, if he wants to take it personal, fine, he can go ahead, for all I care. But I won't apologize for something that's not my fault. He needs to grow some fuckin’ balls and stop whining like a _bowbag_.” Dana looks up with another cigarette in her hands and passes it to Fergus.

Fergus and Rowena exchange another meaningful look. Dana gets to the next one. Fergus looks at the one she just handed him. He shows it to Rowena. Rowena's eyes grow wider.

“Hello, Mother,” she says in a whisper.

“Hello,” Dana replies before she licks the paper and rolls another perfect cigarette. She turns around to hand it to her uncle. “I'm getting better at this!” She says with a smile and gets back at it.

 

 


	11. You do not talk about the Fight Club

It's Sunday, a little bit after noon, so I guess I'm making brunch. Dee is still sleeping. I have a pot of coffee, two stacks of pancakes, bacon, cereal, orange juice and a bowl full with berries. I set everything on the kitchen island and walk over the bedroom to wake her up.

She is fast asleep, sprawled comfortably across the mattress.

“Babe, breakfast,” I sit on the corner of the bed. She mumbles something. I touch her slightly. She opens her eyes with effort, mumbles something under her breath and dozes off again.

“I made pancakes,” I find her foot and give it a little squeeze. Now I got her attention.

“Oh, the magic word,” she starts stretching under the covers. I get up and walk back to the kitchen. I pour my second cup coffee and start eating. I hear her over the bathroom. She joins me after a minute. Her hair is up in a messy bun and her robe is all crooked. Her face is not swollen anymore but the bruise on her eye is turning purple. She looks like she joined the Fight Club. She pours some coffee in her mug and then walks over to the corner and opens the liquor cabinet. She stares at the empty space. Ok, here we go. She closes the door and walks over to the fridge. She opens the door, stares inside for a long minute, closes it. Looks around. Then she looks at me.

“When did we run out of booze in this house?” She asks me, still half asleep, scratching her stomach.

I'm walking on thin ice. I have to be careful. “Do you really have to spike up your coffee? You just got out of the hospital,” I tried to sound casual. She frowns. I can hear my heart beating in my throat. I watch as realization hits her.

“Tell me you didn't,” she fumes at me as she walks to the living room, to her other stash. She comes back. “I have an expensive taste, Sam, it's not some cheap shit you can buy at a gas station,” she is getting worked up.

“I just took it away. You shouldn't be drinking right now. You are on antibiotics, Dee.” I haven't move but I stopped eating. She has her good hand clenched into a fist.

“Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do,” she huffs with a restrained tone.

“Fine. Do you want to be committed to some health facility because you can't get your shit together? Because that's exactly what your Doctor said. Both Doctors actually, your psychiatrist too,” I watch her carefully. “Sit down, drink your coffee, eat your pancakes,” I get into my parenting mode. I have only used this tone with my daughter, and that's just not fair.

“Fuck you,” she says with a low growl and storms out. I immediately follow her. She is back in the room. She walks in to the closet and starts moving things around. I watch her from the threshold.

“Yes, that's gone too.” Yes, I was thorough. She glares at me with unmistakable despise. Her eyes are flaring. She pushes me away from the closet door, takes off her robe with exasperated movements and starts picking up clothes from the chair. She’s trying to get dressed.

“Seriously, Dee? Do you really think I'm going to let you get out of this house so you can buy more alcohol?” I jerk the jeans out of her hands and she gasps utterly affronted.

“Well, I don't know, Dad,” she barks at me, scowling. “Do you think you can stop me?” She tries to jerk the jeans out of my hands but I’m not letting go.

“For fuck's sake, Dana!” I try to keep up with my no-bullshit policy. “You just got out of the hospital! You have a broken arm, two broken ribs and your face looks like a punching bag and there are at least 10 bottles of pills in your bathroom and you insist in gulping them all down with vodka and you're really expecting me to watch you do it and say nothing!?” I gasp for air. “You can even take the fucking subway without falling down the stairs on your drunken ass! Just stop it!” I ended up yelling even when I wasn't planning on it. She is even more pissed. “You are not a functional alcoholic, you are not even functional! You are just drunk all the fucking time! Drunk and out of it! What the fuck are you trying to accomplish here? Wanna OD or something?” I keep shouting at her. She lets go of her jeans. I breathe in and out, trying to calm down. I went too far. Fuck. I don't see it coming. She shoves me hard and knocks me on my ass. Before I can't react, she's on top of me.

“You think I want this?” She shirks and her voice is thick with unrestrained anger now. She finally snapped. I fight the instinct to fight back. I'm not going to engage in this rage fit. Then, she bitch slaps me across the face with the back of her hand. “You think I'm having _fun_?” She is about to sucker punch me again. Ok, time to fight back. I get hold of her hand before she has the chance to hit me again. She definitely wants to punch me so I get hold of the other hand. She really  _wants_ to beat the shit out of me.

“Dana! Stop it! Goddamn it! You're gonna make it worse! Cut it out!” I try to get hold of her, but she keeps thrusting. I manage to shift my weight and manoeuver her around to pin her to the floor. She is huffing and puffing. “Stop fighting, Dana! You are gonna get hurt! Stop fighting!” She doesn't.

“Get off me, you asshole!” She roars with an uncanny growl, and suddenly I'm flying across the bedroom. I hit the wall with a loud thud and I feel the air being knocked out of me. What. The. Fuck. I try to keep calm, I try to breathe in. She is lying on the floor, breathing heavily. I think I see shadows from the corner of my eyes, but maybe I'm just dizzy.

“Dana?” I hesitate for a second. I don't move. I'm too freaked out.

“Do you think I have a death wish?” She asks me with a ragged whisper. “Because I don't. I really don't,” she shields her eyes with her arm. “You told me we would figure it out, but guess what? It's not working,” she sounds calmer but I stay put anyways. “Please, leave.” She sighs.

“I'm not leaving you like this,” I manage to say. I stand up, but I'm not sure if getting closer is such a good idea anymore.

“Please, leave,” she sounds defeated. I don't move. “I'm not going to ask you again, Sam. Either you leave, or I'll make you,” her voice is hard and distant. I hesitate for a second. She sits up. She looks at me. I hold her gaze. She is staring at me with unmistakable defiance _,_ a _c’mon and try me_ posture. I've seen enough of that shit in my days. So I take a step back, then another. I turn around, I grab my shoes and my jacket and I take off.

When I get home, I text Rowena and ask her to check on Dana. I'm not sure if I should tell her more. Maybe I should call Anna. After Dana's birthday party, Anna insisted that I should call her in case things get out of control again. I take a bag of frozen peas out of the fridge and put it on my face. I have taken a lot of beating in my life, but this was exceptionally good. I never even suspected she could kick my ass. I never even thought of the possibility of an actual fist fight with my girlfriend. I go over to the bathroom for some painkillers. I think this qualifies as an out of control situation so I reach for my phone again, and look for Anna's number. My face hurts like hell and I feel my eye is already swollen. Maybe she did join the Fight Club.

 

 

 

Eventually, she gets up. She walks over to the kitchen and stares at the food display. Of course, everything is cold now. She sits down and eats her breakfast anyways. Fuck, that escalated quickly.


	12. In for the Long Game (Night)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about what kind of car would be a good option for Dana if Sam gets John's Impala. So after I watched a particular good episode of "Counting Cars", I decided that a Shelby Mustang GT350 was it. You should look it up, it's pretty awesome.

We were invited over to Rowena's to have dinner with her coven. Yes, she used that word. Dana told me that meant Pamela and Missouri were invited, maybe Patience and Dede were there too. It's a 40 minutes’ drive and I can see she is a little uncomfortable.

“What is it? You’re quiet,” I ask after a minute.

“They always get together on full moon, but tonight there’s a lunar eclipse,” she explains.

“So?” I'm not following.

“So nothing. Never mind.” She keeps looking out the window.

I don't insist. Instead, I put some music in my iPod.

“Please don't blast your rock at me,” she pleads.

“You know the rules,” I shrug. But I don’t feel like antagonizing her either, so I choose a more instrumental playlist. 

“That's not fair, you know I can't drive,” she scowls.

“Too bad,” I shrug again. “Maybe you should learn,” I suggest.

“I know how to drive, bitch,” she sounds really affronted. I glance over to her. I always thought she chose not to drive. I thought it was a strange decision, but what the hell. “I just don't have a license,” she adds.

“Why not?” She makes this face, I can't quite figure out if this is a touchy subject or what.

“Well, the MVD thinks I shouldn't, so I don't,” she sighs. Shit, that was pretty weak on my side. I'm about to apologize but she continues, “When I was a highschool senior, Bobby gave me ‘68 Shelby Mustang GT350. I loved that car," Dana tone shifted from upset to dreamy.

“You had a Mustang GT350?” I'm fascinated.

“Yep. She was a beauty with an iron-block, 289-cubic-inch V-8 rated at 306 horsepower and 329 foot-pounds of torque. That’s a lot of muscle right there.”

I'm dumbstruck.

 

 

“Oh my God, Samuel, don't give me that look,” she sounds annoyed.

“You sound so _invested_ ; I didn't know this about you.”

“Yes, I like cars. Big whoop.”

“What happened with it?”

Shit. I hit a nerve. Her expression darkens. 

“I just don't drive it anymore.”

 

We let music fill the silence the rest of the way.

 

 

When we finally get to Rowena's, her moods takes another 180 degrees turn and she is practically jumping on her seat.

“What?” I try to keep up with her mood changes but tonight has proven to be a difficult day.

“Fergus is here!” She explains and gets out of the car in a heartbeat. I watch her run to the front door and I follow soon after. When I walk in, Dana is nowhere to be seen. So I greet Rowena, who was standing by the entrance door with a resignation look on her face.

“She just burst in, guns blazing as usual. So much for manners. Hello Samuel, how are you doing, dear?” She smiles fondly.

“I'm good, thank you. And you?” I replied.

“Splendid! We are all in the back.”

“Dana said Fergus is here and jumped off the car.”

“There are no surprises with her. Yes, my brother Fergus is here.”

We walk over to the kitchen and I can already hear the animated chatter. Bobby is playing cards with Pamela and Patience over the breakfast nook. Missouri is over the stove, stirring a huge pot of her famous gumbo. And Dana is hugging her uncle. I never saw her so affectionate with her family.

“Fergus, this is Sam Winchester, Dana's better half,” Rowena touches his shoulder lightly. “Sam, this is my brother Fergus MacLeod, Dana's worst influence,” she explains in a mocking tone.

“Hello, Sam,” Fergus reaches out his hand with Dana still by his side. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I retort stretching his hand. Dana is beaming at us.

“He is tall,” Fergus says to Dana.

“I told you,” Dana rolls her eyes. I smile but I can't help thinking about the fact that Dana has been talking about me. And up to this moment, I had no idea about her uncle.

“Hi Sam!” Bobby, Pamela and Patience say at the same time.

“Hi guys!” I wave at them.

“Hey Sam!” Missouri greets me too. I walk over to the stove and kiss her on the cheek. “Try this —he hands me a spoon of the gumbo—. Careful, it's hot.”

“Oh my God, Missouri, this is amazing,” I say and I try to get another spoon full. She lightly smacks me on the hand.

“Dinner will be ready in minute,” she admonishes me.

“Would you help me setting the table, Sam?” Rowena asks me and hands me a soda from the fridge.

“Sure,” I take the soda and follow her to the dinner.

She closes the French doors after her.

“How are you doing?” She asks me as she gets the table cloth out of the linen closet.

“I’m doing better,” I hesitate for a second. I help her unfolding the fabric and setting it straight. She reaches for the plates.

“Are you sleeping OK?” She hands me the plates and I start placing them around the table. She goes for the glasses.

“Yes, actually I'm changing my process a little bit. I'm doing this meditation to um, reach out, and I do so during the day time, so I’m resting better during the nights,” I go for the silverware myself. Rowena takes bowls for all of us and puts them on a tray.

“Are you taking precautions?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you are safe.”

“Oh, yes, I am, why?”

“You know why,” she tilts her head to the side and smiles at me.

“Hum, actually, I don't. I mean I know what you are talking about but Dana sure as hell doesn't talk about it.”

“But she’s helping you?”

“Yes, she is. But sometimes things happen, like flickering lights and objects flying across the room and when I confront her about it she just shuts me off. Like, I have no idea what she’s capable of and that's so frustrating, she’s so secretive. But if I push too hard she gets so upset, and I don't want to do that, I don't want to upset her. Most of the time I don't know what is happening. She's been really quiet all week, for instance. And I literally just found out she used to own a car. Like, I thought she didn't even know how to drive… I’m sorry, I'm ranting, sorry.”

“Don't apologize, Samuel. I completely understand what you mean. My daughter can be a wee frustrating in a good day. And you’re right, she's secretive, just like her father. But at the same time, she's changing. I can see that. She really likes you, Sam. And I think she’s struggling with her own insecurities. See, she doesn't trust anyone, especially not herself. You’ll have to be patience with her. Please don't give up on her.”

“I wasn't planning on doing that.”

“Great, because we like you too. I feel you are already like family… And like any other family, we have a very complex dynamic and a lot of stories. Some good, some bad. Give her time to open up to you.”

“Yes, I know. She doesn’t talk about her much. I mean, I just found out about her uncle.”

“She didn’t mention Fergus? At all?” Rowena sounds surprised.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, that’s odd. I understand how you must feel. But, like I said, just give her time —she sighs— and pick your battles carefully,” she smiles broadly.

The table is settled.

“Something happened in October. She’s mourning someone, isn’t she?”

Rowena shakes her head lightly and smiles sadly.

“Well, Dana lost a lot of people. But that's not my tale to tell.”

“Oh,” I can’t articulate anything else really. I have breadcrumbs; it’s all I’ll ever have. I have to step up my game.

“Let's get these over to Missouri,” she gestured  the tray with the bowls and she opened the French doors for me. I put my soda on the tray, pick it up and follow her to the kitchen.

 

 

After dinner, Fergus and Dana went outside for a smoke. The rest of the women were over the living room. I helped Bobby with the dirty dishes and we start loading the dishwasher. I can hear Dana laughing outside with her uncle. I can’t help smiling, her laugh is contagious. I know I probably I shouldn’t, but I really want to fill out some blank spaces.

“Dana told me on the way here that she used to drive a GT350.”

“Yep, a real beauty. We spend her high school senior year fixing up that car.”

“You fixed it together?” Why didn't she mention that?

“Yep. I made sure Dana learned everything there is to know about it. That way, she wouldn't be ripped off by anyone, especially not mechanics.”

“I get what you mean. My dad owned a 1967 Impala. He loved that car and he taught us a few tricks himself for the same reason I guess.”

“You dad sounds like a wise man.”

“He was.”

“Oh, he is not around anymore?”

“No, he passed away 8 years ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, son. Do you miss him?”

“Yes, very much.”

“What happened to the car?”

“It's in the garage at my mom's. She doesn't drive it anymore. I think something broke down, she probably should take it somewhere, get someone to get a look at it. It's really a shame to leave it there to rot.”

“Yes, that would be a waste.”

“What happened to Dana's GT?”

“Well, after the accident I fixed it up again, but she didn't want to drive it anymore. She doesn't want to have anything to do with it. And I completely understand that, it's just that… I can't bring myself to sell it. We worked really hard on that car. So, it's park over the shop, for display. Customers love it. It's a good eye catch.”

“Sure,” I say. Bobby is not as careful as Rowena, and I'm gathering a lot of intel. I feel like I'm cheating. “She didn't tell me the exact date of the accident, but it's around this time, right?” I'm fishing, and hoping I don't get caught.

“Yes, October 17th. Dana doesn't like to talk about it, of course, but Jo's death was really hard on her. They were really close and when she died, Dana took it hard. She was really depressed after that. She took a year off college and started going to the psychiatrist. The meds helped with her depression but I suspect she never actually forgave herself for that.”

“She thinks it’s her fault.”

“She blames herself for everything. Of course it wasn’t really her fault, she didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, she was always a very responsible driver. Never drink and drive; never went over the speed limits. We used to make fun of her, because she took it so seriously. It was just a freak accident, that's all.”

Ok. A freak accident, probably make it to the news. I can look into that later.

“After my accident, I didn't drive for a while too. It took me almost two years to recover from that,” I’m not big in sharing either but I can share this much.

“What happened to you?” Bobby gets the dishwasher going.

“A truck slipped on ice and hit the car I was in. My partner Rufus was injured but he didn’t lose consciousness. I took the worst part.” _I actually died_ , I almost add. “Luckily the paramedics got there real fast,” _otherwise I would have stayed dead._ Bobby nods. He is deep is thought. “We should get some tea for the ladies,” I said. He nods again and I get the kettle on. Then he keeps talking, but I'm not sure if he is talking to me anymore.

“Fergus was the one who called us. She was staying with him at the time. She used to spend a lot of time with him when she was in Columbia. So he was the one who called and said Dana had an accident. I thought I would pass out right there. When you are a parent, those words are the worst possible words you can hear. When we finally got to Poughkeepsie, she was more stable but she was still in the ICU. That’s when we found out Jo didn't make it. Later, when I saw the car, I was horrified. There was blood everywhere. One of the firemen told me they found Dana impaled to the seat with the stag's antlers. She kept saying that they had to help Jo first. But Jo was already gone by the time they got there. The girls were almost five hours in the car under a pouring rain until someone spotted them on the side of the road and called 911. Dana was conscious but had hypothermia. The doctor said it was a miracle she even made it through.”

Fuck. 

The water in the kettle starts to boil. Bobby is out of the trance and looks at me. I don’t know how to reply to that. In that moment, Rowena walks in and stops for a split second. She looks at us, then to the back porch, where Fergus and Dana are still smoking and laughing, and back at us. She doesn't say anything, but I know better.

“We were about to make some tea,” I smile trying to dissipate the shadows.

Rowena smiles back, it's a little smile and doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Why don't you join the girls in the living room, Samuel? We'll get the tea,” she replies. When I walk by her, she pads me lightly on the forearm. That’s her way to tell me _I know what are you doing, Samuel_.

 

So I join the girls in the living room. There is a lot to take in and it’s going to take me some time. I walk in and there’s a thing going on. Pamela and Patience are sitting on the armchairs, facing each other. I sit next to Missouri on the couch. Pam has a deck of cards on her hands, and there are some facing up on the coffee table. I reach and take one. It’s heavy and bigger than some of the card I’ve seen and it shows a white rabbit dressed in a yellow suit and a black rabbit with a red tux. They are facing each other on a flower bed. This is definitely not Tarot. I turn to Missouri to ask her about this but she raises her finger to her lips to hush me.

“Concentrate on the card, Pat. Try to relax. You got this,” Pamela is holding a card up, facing her way. “Don't tell me what you see, tell me what you _sense_.”

Patience is staring at the back of the card, squinting hard, hands on knees. She makes a frustrated sound.

“Maybe you should close your eyes,” Pamela recommends.

“Why don't you try to touch it, dear?” Missouri pitches in.

“Yes, here you go,” Pam hands her the card.

Pat takes it and closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath. Nothing. Then she takes the card to her forehead.

“I don't know…,” she says twitching in her seat. “Purple?” Pat opens her eyes and flips the card to see it. She lets out a weary sigh and tosses the card on the table, on top of the others. It's a giraffe holding a red umbrella with a really long handle.

“Maybe you should put it in your mouth,” Dana says behind me. "Give it a nice lick, you know?" Stealthy and a complete dick. I guess she’s in a good mood again.  She leans on the back of the couch.  She smells slightly of cigarette smoke and alcohol. That would explain it.

“Not really helpful, Dana,” Missouri says with an admonishing tone.

“How would you know? She never tried,” Dee comes around and I gesture her to sit on my lap. She smiles warmly and gives me a little peck on the lips before cuddling on top of me.

“Why don’t you try it?” Pat scowls at Dee. Pamela rolls her eyes and shakes her head. I hear Missouri huff next to me.

“Bring it, noob.” Dee says with a smug on her face. Pamela hands Patience the rest of the cards with a sigh. Pat takes them, shuffles a little, picks one up and raises it to Dee’s eye level but facing the other way.

“Chickens at a tea party,” Dee says before I can even make out the pattern on the back of the card. Pat frowns, shows the picture to us, tosses it to the pile on the table and raises the next one.

“Two penguins in Hawaiian shirts,” Dee is even faster this time.

“Show offer,” Missouri huffs again.

Pat is getting more frustrated by the minute. I’m just bewildered.

_Wild West sheriff lion._

_Black panther in pink pajamas._

_Shrink shark and Swordfish patient._

“That’s hilarious,” Dee comments with a small laugh.

_Orangutan Romeo and chimpanzee Juliet._

_Mice on a press conference._

_Two koalas high on mushrooms._

“I can relate to that,” Dee says not missing a beat.

Pamela is chuckling now. Missouri keeps shaking her head. I have no idea what the hell is going on.

_Three polar bears drinking margaritas on an iceberg._

_A  pigeon teaching calculus._

_Two toads smoking on a bench._

Patience is fuming now.

“How are you even doing it?” Pat growls.

“Because I’m awesome and you try too hard,” Dee says with a shrug. “C’mon! Keep’em coming!” She’s riled up now.

Pat sighs and keeps it up.

_Rhino eating a lollipop._

_Hipster goat on a scooter._

_Tattooed punk snake on a bender._

“Who even comes up with this shit? It’s sick,” Dee is squirming on my lap and laughing.

_Blue whale eating blueberries._

“How did the whale get the blue berries in the first place?”

“Knock it off, Dana, that’s enough,” Rowena enters the living room with a tray.

“What? I’m just warming up!” Dee sounds affronted.

“This is why we don’t invite her to poker night,” Pamela explains gathering the cards on the table.

“This is why she is banned from every casino from here to New York,” Missouri adds.

I’m dumbstruck.

“Oh my god, Sam’s face right now it’s priceless!” Pamela laughs out loud. Everyone turn their eyes on me. Now I think I’m blushing.

“You spook the moose, Dee,” Missouri laughs out loud.

“Oh, babe, you are blushing,” Dana whispers making a little pout. “You are so fucking cute,” she grabs my head and planters a kiss on my mouth. I can hear all of them laughing, but I can’t pass the lump in my stomach. I’m kinda freaked out by the stunt and kinda turned on by the display of sheer power.

“Sam, tea?” Rowena asks.

“Yeah,” I reply automatically. Dee takes that as her queue move away from my lap but I keep her in place. She turns around and looks at me like _what_. I shake my head infinitesimally. I’m pretty sure my eyes scream in panic. She tilts her head to the side. I hold on to her gaze and I watch her eyes light up in realization. I’m hard. She inhales sharply and her face goes stone cold. She leans in and whispers in my ear “Babe, you make me wanna fuck you so bad right now.” She turns around and picks up my cup of tea from the table and position herself in a way that allows me to drink my tea while covering my unfortunate boner. My poor timing at its best. 

“Pat, seriously, you should start with the Zener cards,” Dana keeps talking like nothing is happening right now. Nothing out of the ordinary.

 

 

 

“He seems like a good guy,” Fergus says rolling a cigarette. He hands it out to Dana. It’s a cold night but they don’t mind. Besides, Rowena doesn’t let them smoke inside the house.  “What’s the deal with the lumberjack plaids?” He adds taking out a joint.

“I don’t know,” Dana lights up her cigarette and takes a long pull. “I don’t mind.”

“I bet you find it sexy,” Fergus gestures for the Zippo.

“Fuck yeah,” she replies and hands out the lighter.

“Bloody hell,” Fergus laughs and offers her the joint. She declines with a shake of her head. Fergus shrugs and takes another pull, his laughter turns into a cough. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“What? I can't do weed anymore, it fucks me up,” Dee sounds a little defensive.

“I know, it’s not that,” Fergus puts away the joint and starts rolling another tobacco cigarette.

“What then?”

“That —he gestures her face—, you, so head over heels with a copper. You used to take the piss out of them and now you are eye-fucking Bullwinkle and Paul Bunyan’s offspring. What have you done with my niece?”

He chuckles again and Dana laughs at loud.

“Well, he has a big utility belt if you know what I mean,” she takes a sip of the bourbon they are sharing.

“Oh dear Lord, too much information,” he tries to sound disgusted. Fergus gestures the bourbon and she passes him the glass. “Where did you get this holy water?”

“NOLA,” she explains.

“I’ll have to get one.”

“I already got you a bottle; it’s back in my house. Where did you get that joint? Smells thick and spicy.”

“Yes, it hits you right in your Seventh Chakra. I got it from some hippie in New Paltz.”

“Tell me you are not shagging some hippie from New Paltz.”

“I’m not shagging some hippie from New Paltz,” he deadpans. Dana cracks up first and Fergus soon follows. They laugh until one is gasping for air and the other one is crying.

“Hell I miss you,” she says trying to catch her breath.

“Hell misses you too,” he retorts wiping his tears. He takes another sip and hands back the glass to her. “How are you feeling?” He asks after a moment. She shrugs.

“I have good days and I have bad days.”

“How bad are the bad days?”

“As bad as the good days are good. And I’m having really good days, so…”

“What are you doing on the 17th?”

“I’m gonna get hammered and cry myself to sleep.”

“Have you told Sam?”

“No, I think Bobby is taking care of that—she cast a glance back to the kitchen— right about now.”

“You shouldn’t rely on Robert to do your dirty work. He’s not your handler.”

“Jealous much?”

“If I had a nickel, darling…”

Dana gives him back the glass. “Kill it.” He takes a sip. The ambers of their cigarettes resemble fireflies. “I’m going to tell him, eventually.”

“How much?”

“What do you mean _how much_?”

“I don’t think Robert knows you and Jo were serious at the time, does he?”

“Of course not. Jo didn’t know we were serious at the time.”

“That’s not true; Jo didn’t know you were in love with her. But Ellen did.”

“Of course Ellen knew, she was dating you!”

“She didn’t find out because of me!”

“Oh, really? You are such a gossip!”

“No, I’m not. You are terrible keeping secrets _and_ you have a crappy memory!”

“Hell no! I can keep a secret. No one knew about you and Ellen!”

“That’s because I can keep a secret!”

“And I can’t? And what do you mean I have a crappy memory?”

“Oh my God, Dana, Ellen found _you_ going down on _her_ daughter on more than one occasion.”

“What? She did not!”

“What’s in this glass? Delusion?”

“Ellen did not walked on us, ever.”

“Everyone walked on you, Dana; I walked on you going at it!”

“You did?”

“YES I DID! You weren’t exactly careful! How do you think I found out about your tattoo?”

“Well, I walked on you and Ellen. I walk on you and that guy from the Hispanic Department.”

“Which guy?”

“I don’t know!”

“See? Crappy memory!”

“You are the one who should know the name of the man giving you a blowjob!”

“I have good memory! I just don’t need to know names in order to enjoy a blowjob! And what do you mean by the Hispanic Department? Was he from the Hispanic _Studies_ Department or was he actually Hispanic?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you expecting me to hang out long enough to find out? Seriously, Fergus? Does it even make any difference?”

“Well, you don’t have to be rude —Fergus finishes the bourbon. Besides, I had plenty of both, so, there is no way to really be sure.”

They have another laugh fit.

 

 

When we are walking back to our car, Dana holds my hand. I pull her closer, throwing my arm over her shoulders. I open the door for her. She shakes her head and climbs in. I go around and I get in. When I’m about to get my seat belt on she jumps on me and starts kissing me. She clenches her hands around handfuls of my hair, pulling my head to her mouth.

“You’ve been a really bad boy tonight,” she says between breaths.

“I’m so sorry,” I’m deeply embarrassed.

“Don’t,” she replies, “it was so fucking hot in a fucked up way but I’ll go with it,” she chuckles, kisses me a little bit more and then pulls back to her seat.

“I don’t know what happened, I swear,” I try to get my cool. “What you did, it was…,” I try not to come up with a word.

“Awesome, I know,” she shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

“Yeah, you have to teach me how to do that,” I say and get the motor running. She is smiling broadly.

“Whatever flicks your Bic, babe.”  

 

 

 

When we got back to the house, I can tell Dana’s mood has tempered down. It’s kinda late, but I don’t want to get to bed yet.

“Wanna take a bubble bath with me?” I ask her as I help her getting out of her coat. She turns around and nods with a soft smile.

“Sure, let me check something first, I think I have to reschedule a flight,” she scratches her nape.

“Ok, I’ll get water ready,” I kiss her forehead and watch her as she strolls to her office. I go to the bathroom and get the water running really hot. Luckily enough, Dana installed a giant bathtub, otherwise we wouldn’t fit together. I bring our pajamas so we don’t have to leave the bathroom to change. When the water is ready, I drop one of those bath bombs Rowena is selling at her shop. I bring my iPod and one of the wireless speakers Dee keeps around and I put Lester Young on shuffle, I know she likes it. I lower the light for ambiance. I fetch Dee’s cigar case and Zippo, and I make sure there are enough cigarettes rolled up. I put everything within arm’s reach. I go over to her office. I can see her pacing around through the frosted glass doors, but I don’t want to barge in.

“I already told you, Dee, I’m not rescheduling New York,” she pauses. “Push Kyoto forward and fit Seoul in between.” Great, she’s on the phone with her boss. At least I think she is, sometimes sounds like it’s her assistant. I never met the woman, I only know her by her pet name, which happens to be the same as Dana's. That must be confusing around the office. Dana has a crazy schedule. She spends some weeks in Chicago, and some weeks here, dividing her time between Headquarters and the Kansas Branch of Roman Enterprises. That means we don’t get to see each other as much as I would wanted but when we do, we mostly stay at her place. “Of course I’ll take the kids with me,” she huffs. “I know, I know,” she laughs out loud. “That’s why you love me,” she laughs some more. Ok, not jealous. Not at all. “Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow. Yes, Zach has all the drafts. Devil is in the details, I know, that’s why we’re meeting tomorrow. Look, I don’t want to keep Sam waiting. Yes, he is. No, I’m not discussing that with you!” She laughs. “I’m gonna hung up now. Yes, good night to you too. See you tomorrow.” I hear her sigh. I knock at the door before walking in.

“Is everything alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, I'm heading to Chicago tomorrow after lunch,” she says while tapping at her phone. “I’m sorry, I though Zachariah would take another day or two to go over the last draft. I’m just letting Charlie know I’m coming over,” she keeps tapping some more and then gets her phone away. “I’m all yours,” she smiles at me.

 

 

 

I’m giving Dee a foot massage. She is smoking and nodding lightly with the music, eyes closed. I don’t want to spoil the mood, but I can barely hold my tongue.

“I know you know about the accident, Sam. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I know I should have. You, above all people, would understand something like that. So, I’m sorry.” Fuck. It’s like watching her with the cards.

“Who is Jo?” Let’s do honesty then.

“Joanna Beth Harvelle. I met her on Founder’s Day when I was staying with my uncle. It’s a big event on Vassar, so I had to check it out. One thing led to another and we dated for over two years,” she opens her eyes and stares at me, her expression blank.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I kiss her foot. She smiles at me and looks away. “Your dad told me it was a freak accident,” I add.

“Yes, it was,” she takes a long pull of her cigarette. “Robert is not my biological dad,” she adds blowing the smoke.

“What?” I’m puzzled.

“Arthur Ketch, that’s my dad’s name. He died when I was seven. Mom married Bobby when I was almost eleven,” she explains casually. “Everyone knows Bobby around here, so people know me as Dana Singer. On papers, I’m Dana Ketch. MacLeod-Ketch, actually.”

“Why am I hearing this now?” I’m taken aback. I don’t want to be rude because I don’t want to upset her, but I’m pissed. This is the kind of things you share way sooner.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. I take a minute.

“Is there anything else you want to share with me?” I’m restraining myself because it’s been a hard week for her. I watch her take another pull and blow the smoke out. She is pondering an answer.

“I’m actually British,” she deadpans.

“What?” I sit up straight and my sudden movement creates a big ripple in the water. She takes her foot back and adjusts her posture.

“I was born in Colchester, Essex. It’s about 90 km north-east from London. That would be, lemme think, 55 miles give it or take. Mom was visiting her mother and her water broke. I was born two months ahead. Ask her, she’ll tell you all about it. She says it was because of the Summer Solstice gathering she attended there, but that was almost a month before I was actually born, so that's not really wh---why are you looking me like that?” She frowns at me.

“Are you serious?” I ask. She shrugs. “Was your father American?” Of course Rowena nationality is out of the question.

“No, my father is— _was_ British,” she corrects.

“But you always lived here?” I ask and I know must look as astonished as I sound.

“No, no. We lived in London until I was about three. Then my dad began working for the Crown and we moved a lot. I think we lived in Italy for over a year when I was four. Rome and Florence, for sure. Then we went to Greece but we didn’t stay long. India, around a year. Chennai, it’s a city by the sea. Yekaterinburg, I was five, I think. I liked Yekaterinburg a lot. Then we went back to London when my Grandpa got sick. You should ask my mom. She’ll be able to pinpoint the dates and the places, I was very young. Oh! Sweden!”

I stand up and get out of the tub. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I need to get out. I wrap the towel around my waist and get out of the bathroom.

“Sammy, what is it?” I hear her getting out of the tub. I try to dry myself a little bit better because I’m dripping water all over the floors. She walks in wearing her robe. “Hey, what are you doing?” She asks me, clearly concerned.

“Oh my god, Dana, you just don’t get it, do you?” I’m trying to get dressed.

“Why are you getting dressed? Where are you going?” She's taken aback.

“Do you realize this is the kind of things that you share with your boyfriend in, I don’t know, the first two months maybe?” I try to put my pants on.

“Maybe my timing is a little off, why are you so upset?” She has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Dana, your timing is not ‘a little off’. You just don’t give a fuck about us. You never talk about your family, you never talk about your friends, you never talk about your job, you just never talk about anything remotely personal. And I thought _Ok, maybe there is not much to it, maybe there’s nothing worth mentioning_ but I was obviously wrong because if today is any indicator, actually there’s _a lot of_ it. Everything with you is bits of information here and there and that’s all. Like, I literally don’t know who you are right now. I don’t know the first thing about you and I feel like you know everything about me, like what the fuck, man?” I got my shoes on and my t-shirt. She's not even offended by my arguments.

“Sam, you met my family. You met my friends. And I signed a non-disclosure agreement; I literally and legally can’t talk about my job. As for the rest, I’m telling you now,” she’s so collected.

“Do you realize I found out, just now, that you had a long term relationship with a girl, that you were in a car accident with her, that she was killed, that you don’t drive anymore probably because of this highly traumatic experience, that Bobby is not your biological dad, that your dad was British and worked for the English Crown, that _you_ are British and that you lived around the world for years, do you see where I'm going with this? Why do you keep holding things from me? Do you even care? It’s like I’m completely in the dark with you. It’s insane! Next thing I know, you’re gonna drop your American accent and tell me that you are the fucking Queen of England for all I know!” I’m so pissed off right now. She just stands there, looking at her toes. Oh, she wouldn’t. “OHMYGOD! Who the fuck are you? Are you for real?” Now I’m yelling.

“I had to adapt, Sam! I was the European girl homeschooled by a Scottish witch and her deviant brother in fucking Dallas! I was afraid to be cast out! Or shot! They shoot Kennedy ten blocks from my house, why wouldn’t they shoot me? And I was already a freak, I needed to… I don’t know, resemble some kind of normal, so I faked it until I made it. I was an insecure little girl, you can’t hold that against me!” She's kinda ranting but she has no idea why I’m so angry.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I’m standing in the middle of the room with my arms going crazy.

“I don’t know!” She sounds amused. I hate her right now.

“Do you think this is funny?” I’m fuming.

“No, no, of course not,” she laughs under her breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just that---" she chuckles.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny, you jerk!” I’m so frustrated right now.

“It’s just that, like two hours ago, you literally got a boner in front of my mother with me on your lap and now you’re upset because I didn’t give you my whole background?”

“I already apologized for that! And you gave me ZERO background, Dana! You gave me nothing, NADA! There is a difference, OK? And you clearly don’t get it!” I’m so pissed off and I’m only getting more riled up.

“I’m sorry; I just didn’t think I _had_ to!” She’s so full of shit.

“What do you mean? Like you didn’t think it was important for me to know? Or you didn’t want me to actually get to know you? Seriously, what the fuck?”

“No, no, I just didn’t think it was worthy, like…”

“Like WHAT?”

“I honestly didn’t think we would, you know!”

“No, I don’t.”

“C’mon, Sam!”

“No, say it, I want you to say it!”

“OK, OK, FINE! I’ll fucking say it, dammit! I didn’t think we would last this long! There! I said it! You happy now?”

“You didn't think--? Seriously? Are you---? We've been texting and talking on the phone almost every day since our first date, I'm practically living here and it’s has been over 6 months now, Dana! How can you still think this is _just_ a fucking hookup, huh?”

“I’m sorry, OK? It’s not like I want to hurt you feelings or something, I just didn’t think…”

“What? You didn’t think _what_?” Oh, I’m so done. I think I’m about to walk away right now.

“I honestly didn’t think I could fall in love with you, a’aight? I thought that after Jo, I wouldn’t... And you just kinda _happened_. And I’m _such_ a mess! I didn’t think you’d stick around, especially after seeing what happens when I lose my shit. And that happens _all the time_ around you, so yes, of course I thought I should keep my distance so when you finally decided that you had enough I wouldn’t be so invested in this… I didn’t mean to upset you, I just, I didn’t want you to get caught in this shit storm either. You’re such a nice guy, Sam. You're really... Something else, you know? And I’m sorry, OK? Just please, don’t leave, don’t leave mad... I’ll sleep on the couch, or whatever, just don’t drive, you’re upset and you shouldn’t be driving...”

I stare at her. She stares me back. Then, it hits me.

Holy fuck.

“I love you too,” I say after collecting myself.

“Wait, what?” She frowns.

“I said, I love you too,” I watch her carefully. Aaaaand there it is, _anagnorisis_ , the moment of recognition. She mouths a silent _Oh_ and blushes.

“Dude, that was so _weak_ , I’m sorry,” she says covering her mouth with her hands. She looks so embarrassed. I sigh and run my hands over my face. This has been a very, very long and weird night.

“Let’s go to bed, OK?” I’m dressed now, so I guess I’ll undress again. She’s too embarrassed to move. I know she is rerunning everything in her head. “Dee, let’s call it a night, it’s OK. We’ll talk in the morning.” She nods and gets back to the bathroom. She comes back with our pajamas. She hands me mine, avoiding my gaze. I change back to my pajamas and she does the same. I climb in and she does the same. I turn off my light and she does the same. We both stare at the ceiling.

“Sam, I’m sorry,” she says.

“Dee, just shut up, I beg you,” I sigh.

“Just wanted to tell you goodnight, Sammy,” she whispers in a posh English accent. I laugh so hard, tears are coming down my face.

“Jerk,” I nudge her.

“Wanker,” she replies and I have another laugh fit.

“C’mere,” I say lifting my arm so she can be by my side. She rests her head on my chest and throws her arm around and her leg over mine. Thus, we fall asleep.


	13. Lights Out

When I get to the station next morning, I feel worse than I looked and I look terrible. I don't know how to handle this, so I do what I do best, I focus on my work. I don't text her, I don't call her. On Tuesday, I feel even worse. I text Anna.

 _Let me know if you need anything_.

She replies back.

_Everything is fine, Sam. She just needs to cool off. Don't worry._

I worry. I worry a lot.

On Wednesday, after lunch, Jody comes over to my desk with a somber look on her face. My stomach sinks with dread.

“Hey, I have to show you something,” she tells me and gestures me to follow her to her desk. She sits down and asks me to do the same. “So Rufus managed to get the security footage from the subway station,” she is stalling. She opens a video file. “Ok, subway station entrance.” I see Dana walking towards the entrance. She’s wearing her purple coat and I can see she’s also wearing her fancy boots. No high heels. She’s walking in a straight line, no wobbling, no hesitation. She’s sober. A street light flickers; she casts a glance behind her. Jody goes to another file. It's from an angle covering the stairs. Dana walks down the stairs and then suddenly stops. She continues after another glance behind her. Jody opens the third file; it's an angle covering the platform and the end of the stairs. Dana makes it to the landing and takes a few steps before she freezes. She takes a step back, turns around and makes it back to the stairs. The video goes black. I look at Jody for an answer.

“Yes, I know. Look at this.” She shows me another file; it's a wider angle covering the platform. There is a couple sitting on one of the benches. Suddenly, the screen goes black.

“Now, check out the time.”

She plays the first video again, the one from the entrance.

03.03 am. The screen goes black.

She plays the footage from the stairs angle.

03.03 am. The screen goes black.

Landing footage.

03.03 am. Black screen.

Broad angle with the couple on the bench.

03.03 am. Black screen.

“Ok, look again.” She rewinds and plays it again. “He looks over the entrance… _there_.” Jody paused. “At first, I thought she was being followed, because she kept glancing behind. So I ask Rufus if he could pull footage from across the street and this is what he could get,” she plays another file. “Ok. Watch. See that? That's the light flickering when she walks down. Look at the time. There is no one coming down. There is no one around, actually. Now, that doesn't mean she wasn't being followed. So I asked Rufus to ask around, and he was told that there was a malfunction all over that station. Every camera went out at the same time. He told me it happens from time to time. I know, Sam, it’s definitely fishy. The timing, that can't be a coincidence. So, let’s get back to the couple. The woman was the one calling the ambulance. Now, the woman thought Dana just trip and felt, and that's what she told the emergency response team. Also, she told them they were the only ones there other than Dana. Whatever Dana saw when she hit the landing, the woman was not aware of it. I know Dana saw something because something really spooked her. We know that much. On the other hand, the guy told me a different story when I spoke to him yesterday,” Jody paused and took a deep breath, “he told me that when he heard steps coming down, he glance over the entrance and saw Dana coming down, alone. He told me that he saw Dana stop, take a step back and turn around. At first he thought she forgot something, but then, and I'm quoting him, 'I don't know, man, she looked like she was running away from something.' Next thing he knows, he hears a commotion and Dana is on the landing, hurt. I asked him if he saw her trip and fall, and he said he didn't. He told me that he couldn't see clearly from where he was sitting, but it sounded like something attacked her on the way up. However, when they run over to her, he couldn't see anything. He also explained to me that he didn't say anything when the ambulance arrived because he didn't want to freak out his girlfriend. And let me tell you something, Sam, he sounded freaked out about it.” Jody leans back in his chair. I don't know what to say. We look at each other in silence.

“Thanks, Jody.” I replied. I owe Dee an apology. I fucked up big time.

 

 

 

She's soaking in the tub, staring at the tiles absent minded. The house is quiet. She is quiet too, brooding. The water is barely warm now. She doesn't mind. She is in pain, but hasn't taken anything. She doesn't need to if Sam is not around. Her right hand is hanging over the side of the tub. Her breathing is deep and steady. She didn't realize she was reaching out to him until he is there with her. She doesn't push him away, why would she? She’s not surprised by his presence, and he doesn't seem to be surprised to be there either. He always comes when she calls. He gently touches her broken arm, puzzled.

_Who did this to you?_

_I don't know._

He kisses her knuckles; the gesture sends chills through her entire body. She feels rather than see him, surrounding her. He is there, with her, in the tub, behind her, hugging her, and there’s a familiarity to it. She rests her head on his shoulder, relaxing into him. He places his hand on her forehead, and kisses her temple.

_Let me help you._

He gently presses his other hand on her broken ribs.

_Let me take your pain away._

She melts into him even further. She feels him breathing with her, his chest moving up and down behind her back. His warm breath on the crook of her neck.

_Let me take care of you, angel._

She feels lighter, the pressure of his touch decompressing her cluttered mind. The tip of her fingers tingling with energy.

_That's it. Good girl._

She feels how the lower part of the belly heats up and contracts with the sudden rush of arousal. He chuckles, nuzzling her hair. Another wave of heat heading south. She moans. He keeps his hands on placed. Strangely enough, she feels like he doesn't need to touch her intimately for her to reach orgasm, his proximity is doing all the work. With her good hand, she reaches back to touch him. He chuckles again. He is happy. She buries her fingers in his messy hair, reaching for the back of his neck, and it's his time to moan. She feels light headed, the pain gone, the noise gone, the shadows gone, the uneasiness forgotten. Only pleasure. She arches up and comes with a shudder. He kisses her temple one more time.

_That's my girl._

She turns around and disappointed washes through her. She wanted to see him, but he was already gone.

 

That night she slept like she hadn't slept in years. She didn't need any kind of palliatives, she only needed him. It was actually very simple, if she cared to be honest with herself.

 

 

 

I made the mistake to call Rufus. He was expecting my call.

“Hey Sam, how are you doing?” He greets me.

“Hey, Rufus. You busy? I can call later.”

“No, I'm good. So, did you get a look at that footage I send you?”

“I did.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought. You know, she looked familiar.”

“You run her name?”

“I run her name. Wanna know what I found?”

“I'm not sure I want to.”

“Too bad, ‘cause I'm going to tell you anyways. Remember that night we called you to help interview witnesses in a club back in 08?  A man was beat to pulp after he assaulted another man in a gay bar and we thought it could be related to those hate crimes we had earlier that year? Rings any bell?”

“The homophobic mental breakdown guy. I remembered. No one could explained who beat him up. I interrogate almost everyone who was there that night.”

“Yes, and I interrogated the man who was assaulted first. He got hit with a bottle. Gabriel Larsen, Human Resources Department in Roman Enterprise, New York division.”

_Oh shit._

“Now, Mr. Larsen was not alone. A Miss Dana Ketch was with him.”

_Oh fuck._

“She got hurt too, defensive wounds, apparently from when she tried to protect her friend from the attacker. Your dad was the one who talked to her. Now, we did our best to figure out what happened. We call in the witnesses again. But no one could tell us what went down. The man eventually got out of the ICU. He was a drifter, had no family to speak of. No one who would care, at least. We talked to him a couple of times. Wanna hear what he said?”

_No, I don't._

“He said he saw the man who hurt him when he was a child. He saw him in the club that night. He knew it was impossible, that man was dead. And he told us that he felt this uncontrollable rage inside and he was blinded by it. He had no idea why he targeted Larsen or Ketch. He didn't know them, he didn't want to hurt them, he just couldn't control himself. He couldn't tell who hurt him either. He didn't remember. In the end, he didn't pressed charges, neither Larsen or Ketch. So, there was no case.”

_Fuck._

“You there, son?” Rufus asks me.

“What happened with him?” I already know what happened.

“He hung himself in 2009.”

I don't know what to say.

“You know what he said to your dad last time we visit him at the hospital?”

 _Hell no_.

 

 

 

“Thank you for your time, son.” Rufus says to the young man on the hospital bed. He looked better, but only on the outside. I think we are done here.

“Wait, wait,” he said as we were ready to leave. “What’s your name?” He asks me.

“I'm John Winchester,” we had to introduce ourselves several times during the interview. He kept spacing out.

“John, you, you know what I'm talking about, right? You, you've seen it, haven't you? I can tell, I can tell you did.”

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” I reply.

“John, you talk to her, didn't you? You saw it.”

Rufus looks at me and I can feel the weight of his gaze. Shit, I don't need him breathing down my neck.

“Saw what?” I asked.

“The end of world, John. The end of times.”


	14. Butterflies and Hurricanes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Mention of public masturbation, depression and suicidal attempts.

“We should go inside,” Jo whispers in my ear. I’m trailing wet kisses down her neck. I have my right hand in her pants and my left one on her nape.

“You mean your room?” I’m pinning her down to the side of my car with my own bodyweight. I hear her chuckle.

“No, I mean back inside. Work, remember?” She shudders under my touch.

“Do we have to?” I asked nibbling at her earlobe.

“We’ll catch up later, I promise,” she lets go a long sigh and a deep moan as I tease her over with the tip of my fingers. I kiss her long, deep and hard. She grabs my ass to pull me closer. We are never going to get inside if we keep this up. I break the contact reluctantly. I don’t want to interfere with her job. She's not very happy to hit the pause button either. We fix each other’s uniforms before walking back to the locker room. Before we actually start our shifts, Jo tries to fix my make-up after the eyeliner I used gave me a bad allergy reaction. I love when we get to share girly moments like this but I wish I didn't feel like I shoved onions in my eyes sockets. She puts some hypoallergenic lotion in a cotton ball and gently brushes my eyes with it.

"It looks better than when you walked out of your car," she whispers. "I thought someone had died. Does it still burn, baby?"

I pout. "Just a mild discomfort." She gives me a little peck on the tip of my nose.

"You shouldn't wear anything," I smile at her comment and she immediately corrects herself. "I mean, you shouldn't wear any make up tonight."

"And what? Rely on my wits?" I turn to look in the mirror. Looks like I've been hanging out with Jerry all day.

"I think I have drops, Ketch." Jules says behind me as she comes back from the bathroom. "Here," she throws me the little bottle she got from her bag and I catch it mid air. I put the eye drops and blink the excess away. I turn to them with a quizzical expression.

"Yeah, looks like someone died," Jo mutters. 

"You said I looked better!"

"She meant yesterday," Jules adds with an apologetic smile. "Looks like someone died yesterday. Maybe a strained aunt, right?" She looks back at Jo.

"Strained but lovely. Used to bake you pies and give twenty dollars on your birthday," Jo continues.

"Yes, remember her cat, Sir Pawncelot? Even he smelled of cigarettes and biscuits, like she did," Jules keeps nodding like she's not making this shit up.

"Oh, I liked Aunt Margaret," Jo half hugs Jules. "We're gonna miss her so much." She buries her head on Jules neck.

"I know, honey, I know. Lovely woman. She will be missed," Jules pads her lightly on the head.

"Show must go on, I know. It's what dear Auntie Margaret would have wanted," Jo sniffs.

"Hilarious," I mutter looking back at the mirror. "But I still look like funeral material."

"Plan B," Jules puts her brother's Ray-Ban Wayfarer classics on my hand. "Now you can look like a douchebag," she grins widely and walks out of the locker room with a chuckle. I try them on and damn, don't I look good. But damnit! I don't want to be that asshole who wears shades inside.

"What do you think?" I turn to Jo. She bites her lower lip and growls.

"Well, I think I'll definitely tap that after work,” she replies beaming at me. "It's very Blues Brothers vibe minus the hat."

"That's better, I guess," I sound as defeated as I look. She slaps my ass on her way out and winks at me. "I think you look hot. I'll see you --she licks her lips-- later." And thus, she walks out of the room. Oh, sweet and agonizing anticipation. Forget fake dear Auntie Margaret's funeral. Jo's gonna get me killed.

Saturday night and The Roadhouse is gonna get packed. Vassar, Marist College and CIA’s seniors are the main population over the weekends; which in turn brings cadets from West Point. Everyone over 21 —Benny officiates as our Cerberus and no one passed through our gates with a fake ID— hits The Roadhouse for local beer, mean chicken wings, live music and pool tables. I’m not sure Ellen thought she would become the prideful owner of a college bar, but she is doing great at it. I like working here. I enjoy the ambiance and Jo in tight jeans. She is the reason why I’m here as much as possible. I only started working as a bartender because Ellen didn’t like when I hustled drunken college students over the pool as I waited for Jo to finish her shifts. So I earn my money honesty behind the bar and hang out with Jo all the same. A win-win situation for me.

This night is going great. The band Ash brought for tonight is awesome. I never thought I would enjoy this indie vibe, but everyone seems to love it. People are weird. I hear some chords and I look up. The band starts to do this acoustic version of _Carry on my wayward son_ and I immediately look for Jo in the crowd. Of course, she is looking my way and gives me her _Well would you look at that_ look. I smile and blow her a kiss. She pretends to catch it midair and places it over her heart. I'd had picked a more southern location —location is everything— and I know she catches my drift when she smiles and shakes her head. I’ll have to wait until our shift is over to relocate that kiss.

I’m really enjoying myself and it shows. Besides, bigger smiles, bigger tips. I’m fixing a cocktail for a pretty girl with purple hair —I'll go with Vassar, most likely dance company; and suddenly I feel it. It hits me like a punch in my gut. Someone is lurking around. Chills run down my spine. Someone is hunting. I hand out the cocktail and she hands me a ten along her number on a napkin. I wiggle my eyebrows at her and I put her number on my back pocket in a swift move. She winks back and leaves, and I take a step back. I won’t be able to pinpoint the source of danger if I have to keep taking orders, so I turn around and pretend to be looking for something in the lower cabinets. I take a deep breath and try to focus. I have to tune in.

I'm in my mental vault. I’m safe inside. No one can reach me here. Nothing can touch me here. I look for the right safe deposit box. I use my key to open the box number 360. I take the out the box and put it on the table in the center of the room. I open the lid and take out the silver compass. I hold it tight to my chest.

I’m the compass.

The music becomes a muffle melody coming from afar. My fingertips are tingling. I stand up and take a look around. I survey the space around me. It’s easy to see him now. He is sitting in booth over the corner with some other dudes. He is tall and scrawny. His long face is set in what I suspect it’s a permanent smug. I can tell he has a whole fake persona going on, but I know better. I think he has chosen already. I follow his gaze.

_Gotcha._

I crouch again and I pinch the bridge of my nose. I retrieve my mental steps.

“What just happened?” Jo holds my hand. I didn’t notice her at all. She’s crouching besides me and watching me carefully with a frown.

“Someone’s on a hunt —I hold on to her hand and give it a squeeze— scrawny tall looking dude, long face, looks like he’s smelling rotten eggs, two o’clock. Be discrete, please.” We stand up together. Jo turns around and places an order in the kitchen and I take an order from a cute guy in a plaid shirt.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” I ask.

“Can I have one English stout and one double IPA,” he says with an oh so sweet smile.

“Sure thing, hon” I reply and get down to it. I’m dispensing the English Stout and can’t help a smirk. Stupid Ash. I can feel him staring at me, so I look up. He looks away. Oh, he’s blushing now. That’s cute. I keep staring at him —yes, he has certain _something else_ — and he's doing his best to avoid my gaze. Hmm, maybe he’s shy. I totally dig shy. I lean in and gesture him to get closer.

“You single?” I ask him. He jumps; he literally jumped at my question. I like him already. I haven’t seen him before, though. I think I would remember him.

“Yes?” He replies going redder.

“Is that a question?” I frowned tilting my head to the side.

“No, ma’am,” he replies. West Point for sure. I shake my head. I put the pints on the counter. He hands me a 20. I stare at him. There is something familiar about him. I pretend to reach out for the bill but I grab his hand by the wrist. His eyes go bigger as I pull him closer.

“On the house,” I give him my most dashing smile. I think I broke him. He stares at me, gaping a little. I think he is going to combust right there. I let go of his hand.

“Thank you?” He says in a hush voice. I don’t know if he is grateful for the free beer or if he is thanking me for letting go of him.

I frown again and he repeats “Thank you,” this time it’s not a question. He takes the pints and goes back to his table.

Jo is back at my side. “What are you doing?” She nudges me and I know she saw me flirt with Paul Bunyan and she’s not happy about it.

“Do you know the creep?” I brush her question with another question.

“Yeah, I think his name is Alastair, I’ve seen him around campus,” Jo replies and starts preparing a beer order. Good, we have a little more time. I put some ice on the shaker and start mixing something up.

“Do you know the blonde girl with the Smurfs t-shirt at 10 o’clock?”

I wait for Jo to locate her while I do my thing on auto pilot.

“Yes, her name is Jessica. We shared a class or two,” she replies putting the beers on a tray.

“This sicko has been staring at her for a while now. He’s waiting for the little brunette to leave,” I shake my shaker and keep my smile on.

“What should we do?” Jo has her tray ready. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing but I get two drinks ready and put them on Jo’s tray.

“Tell her the lumberjack sends these,” I reply.

“What are these?” Jo stares at them.

“Lemme think.” I realize now I could have done something with Blue Curaçao. Damn. I wasted the Smurfs component. “What’s Jessica’s major?” I need something catchy.

“Literature, I think?” Jo is already walking away. Ok, I can do this.

“Ithaca!” I shout out to Jo. She nods once and walks away with the drinks.

We got this.

 

 

 

“You look freaked out,” Victor says when I’m back at the table. I hand him the IPA and I taste my English stout. I like the bitter edge to it. I can’t help glancing back at the bar. She's talking with one of the waitresses. 

"So get this. I think the bartender just hit on me."

"Elaborate," he takes a sip of his beer.

"She asked me if I was single, grab my hand, showed me her teeth like she wanted to eat me and told me the beer was on the house." I had to say it at loud. I can't believe it myself and I was there. Victor follows my gaze.

"What? Ketchup? The girl over there? No chance in hell," he looks at me; his disbelief is almost insulting. He shakes his head and takes another sip.

"Ketchup? Seriously? That's an awful nickname. That can't be right."

"She works here sometimes. Total badass." He doesn't need to explain that, I can see it for myself. She's wearing shades inside a freaking bar and she's totally owning the uniform like she was born for it. Reminds me of that movie what was the name?

"I think she's NYU," Victor continues. "Besides, for the looks of it, Ketchup is dating one of the Jays," he comes here often so I don't feel like contradicting him. He knows his ground and this is my first time here after all. But I’m pretty sure Ketchup, what a stupid nickname, was flirting with me. I mindlessly touch my wrist, where she touched me. I get chills.

“One of the Jays?” I ask instead. I hope he's not a douchebag.

“Yes, Jay One, the hot blonde next to Ketchup there, see? The girl with dreadlocks over there is Jay Two,” he points out to another waitress.

“Oh,” Jay One looks like a really nice girl. I can see now they have definitely something going on. They're so cute.

“Ketchup swings both ways, though. Or so I heard,” Victor mutters with a mischievous smirk. I watch as Jay One walks across the bar with a tray full with beers. She makes a stop on a table and lays down two drinks and points our way. The two girls turn around and smile at me. Wait, what? Jay One tells them something else and then she walks to another table. I watch the girls as they take their drinks and exchange a few words. I’m about to say something to Victor when I notice they are coming our way. Shit. One is a petite brunette in a leather jacket and she seems to be eyeing Victor. The other girl is tall, has a long and beautiful wavy blonde hair and a sweet smile. She is wearing a Smurfs t-shirt under her denim jacket. And she is smiling at me. Oh my God.

 

 

 

The sun will come up soon. I like this particular hour of the day. Some say it’s the darkest hour but I’m not of that opinion. I can hear Jo’s even breathing. She’s sprawled in my bed and I feel proud of us. We are actually doing this whole relationship thing. Of course I would like her to feel comfortable enough to come out as bi, but I know we’re not there yet. Well, I am. Jo isn’t. But that’s OK. I don’t know why, but my eyes are drawn to the woods behind the house. I’ve been feeling off since that creep back in the bar. I feel… I don’t know what I feel. I can definitely feel my anxiety building up again. I put some sweat pants and one of the Vassar hoodies Jo got for me and I get outside. I sit on the back porch and stare at the trees at the back of the property. I like Fergus new house, it’s more private. I can’t seem to stay put, so I start to circle around the back yard. I’m barefoot, but I’m not cold. I like to feel the earth beneath my feet. I try to focus on my breathing. I try to relax. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I think I’m about to have a panic attack. Maybe I’m just exaggerating. Maybe I’m not. I’m getting dizzy, so maybe I should sit down on the ground. I sit down on a Lotus position, facing east. I focus on my breathing, my heart rate is high. I need to slow down. I tilt my head back. This isn’t working.

Blue. I focus on the color blue.

Inhale

One

Two

Three

Four

Now hold

One

Two

Three

Four

Exhale

One

Two

Three

Four

Now hold

One

Two

Three

Four

_I’m here._

I know. I know he is there. I just can’t reach him. I can’t reach out to him.

And just like that. He is gone again. Shit.

 

I hear some birds chirping in the distance. I’m really cold now but I don’t dare to move. I try to understand what he is trying to tell me but it’s like we don’t have a good reception.

“Let me know you are here,” I say at loud.

“Send me a sign so I can know for sure you are here,” I add after a minute.

I wait.

I can’t feel my hands anymore. My feet hurt. I get up, stretch a little bit and head back to the house. I feel his blue eyes on me for a split second and I stop on my track. I desperately look around. Nothing. The sun is coming up anytime now and the world gets that eerie light going on. I should get inside already.

I wash my feet in the kitchen sink before joining Jo under the covers. She moves a little and turns to her side. Ok, I can be the big spoon. I snuggle behind her, throwing my arm around her. I’m cold in comparison. Luckily, she doesn’t wake up. Jo doesn’t like when I take a walk in the middle of the night.

“I love you, Joanna Beth,” I whisper next to her ear and then I kiss her shoulder. Maybe I should say it when she can actually hear me.

 

 

 

Castiel tries to warn her. He _really_ tries. But it’s like she’s on the other side of a wall. He is so frustrated he wants to punch something. He focuses on his breathing instead. She can handle it. She’s more than capable. He has to trust her. He does trust her. And he should get some sleep now if he wants to hit the road anytime soon. He lies on the back seat of his car and stares at the window. He would normally enjoy this time of the night but it’s not possible with the heaven falling over. He can’t take a walk with this pouring rain. So he focuses once more on her green eyes. He imagines she is looking at him through her lashes. He can count the freckles on her cheeks and nose. He imagines her body pressed firmly against his own. She whispers _I love you_. He catches himself saying the actual words at loud.

“I love you too.” He can’t fight a smile. And feeling all warm inside, he falls asleep.

 

 

 

Alastair followed them back to the house. That was easy. She had a ridiculous flamboyant car. He kept his distance and then parked far ahead. He came back to the house cutting through the woods. He didn’t even know why he was doing this. He had this feeling he couldn’t shake. She was onto him. Somehow, she knew. They both knew and they had managed to get Jessica out of his way. He stood still at a safe distance. He could see the house just fine from his spot in the woods. He lost track of time again. What was going on with him? Suddenly he realized she was sitting on the back porch. When did she even go out? His hands got all sweaty and his breathing got shallower. She got up and started pacing around the back yard, describing circles. What the fuck was she doing? He looked down to the bulge in his pants. Yes, he was hard. She sat down on the ground. He unbuttoned his jeans and started stroking his throbbing dick inside his briefs. After a few strokes, he lowered his underwear and leaned over a tree for stability. Only took a few more strokes for him to come. He was utterly surprised. He felt he accomplished something important. She stood up and head back to the house. He pulled his pants back up and took a few steps forward. He froze in place when he saw that she was looking in his direction. No, there is no way she can see me, he told himself. He stepped back anyways. She got inside. He turned around and walk back to his car. He was half way through when he saw something to his right and froze again. At first, he saw nothing. Then, he distinguished the distinctive shape of a huge deer among the trees. The thing was staring at him. Its antlers were massive. What the fuck, he said at loud. He raised his hand. He pointed his finger like a gun. Bang, he said. You are dead, he said. The stag didn’t move. He laughed with a disgusting little cackle and resumed his way.

 

 

 

Castiel has a horrible nightmare. He is walking on the side of a road. He knows he has to keep moving north. It’s pouring and he is forced to squint and shelter his eyes with his hands in order to see where he is walking. Lightings split the darkness now and then. Suddenly, he comes to a halt. There is a huge stag standing perfectly still on the middle of the road. Castiel takes a few more steps forward and he steps on something. It hurts. He looks down to his bare feet and sees he’s standing among shards of broken glass. He looks back to the stag frozen on the middle of the road. Spite the pouring rain, he know its antlers are dripping. And it’s not water, but blood.

 

 

 

Dana has a truly awful nightmare. A storm is brewing and something's lurking in the shadows, trying to get to her. They know. They know who she is. She can’t hide forever. The door won’t hold them back forever.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

“How is she?” Fergus asks after he lit up both cigarettes.

“Out of it.” Rowena takes a long draft. “She's asleep most of the time."

“And when she’s awake, does she say anything?”

“Not really. She asks about Anna when she's not here. And that's about it.”

“So she doesn't remember?”

“I don't know. She seems to have lost track of time. I think she got stuck sometime back in the summer."

"Why?"

"She always looks confused when she's cold, like she can't understand why. And she freaked out the first time it snowed."

“Maybe you should call Pamela. Or Missouri. Maybe they can help.”

“Yes, maybe. Or maybe we should give her some time.”

“I guess.”

“Robert spoke with one of the fireman who rescued her. He said she was conscious the whole time."

"How would they known?"

"Beats me. But  I sure hope he's wrong."

Rowena takes a long draft.

"I've seen the car and the pictures, Fergus. It was a gruesome scene to behold. You don't get to live through that and come out in one piece.”

“Bloody hell.”

“And with Dana… Well, I think something changed. She seems more…”

“More what?”

“I don't know. What about Ellen and Ash? How are they holding up?”

“All things considered, they're doing their best. The insurance company is proving to be hideously inhuman entity, but that's not a surprise. It's a dreadful bureaucratic process.”

“Poor woman, I can't imagine...”

“Funny you say that. That’s what she said about you.”

They finish their cigarettes and walk back inside the hospital.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

“Your sister is too young to lose you.”

“I know. I didn't mean to, Mom.”

“Yes, you did, pumpkin. And it's OK. I'm not judging you. All I'm saying is that you need to keep fighting, if not for yourself, then for your sister. She's too young to understand and she'd be devastated if you leave her behind. She already thought she lost you once.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Outside, with Robert and Fergus. You want me to call them?”

“No, I don't want them to see me like this.”

“OK. We can wait.”

"Mom?"

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know, jellybean. I know. Try to get some sleep, alright?"

"Are you gonna stay here?"

"Yes, don't worry. I'm here."


	15. The things I do for love

When Dana opens the door and sees me standing on the porch, her face goes blank. She’s on her phone. She says something in French, nods, _oui, oui_ , _au revoir_. She leaves her phone on the table next to the door. Then she grins brightly and jumps me. I catch her just in time. She wraps her legs around my waist and buries her hands on my hair. She’s kissing me like she's famishing for me. I manage to get inside and close the door. I’m trying to speak but she doesn’t let me.

“Dee, baby,” I try to get her attention. She unwraps herself off me. This is not going to be easy. I’m still holding her by the waist so I lean forward to place her on the floor. She keeps kissing me. When her feet reach the floor, she takes a step back and takes her sweater off in one efficient move. Her eyes are lustful and I can’t help to hesitate. She starts undoing her black shirt.

“Strip. Now,” she commands me. I stare at her, not sure what to do. “I said now, Sam,” she is not kidding. But I can’t do this. I really can’t do this.

“Can we talk first?” My voice sounds harsh.

“Samuel, I don’t like to repeat myself,” she gets to the last button and the shirt is gone. She stands in front of me with a black lace bustier. Oh. Fuck.

“Please,” I beg. I’m begging her not to fuck me into submission right now because I came here to break a promise.

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks and you come all the way here to not fuck me senseless?” She stares at me, her expression blank again. She’s undoing the buttons of her jeans.

“Can we just talk, please?” I ask with a conciliatory tone. She stops with her thumbs tugged on her waistband.

“What’s so important that you can wait until _after_ you are inside me?” She couldn’t be doing this any harder. I open my mouth. I close my mouth. She’s standing there, in front of me, with sexy underwear, hungry for me. And then, she knows. Realization hits her. Realization gives way to disbelieve. She shakes her head and starts laughing nervously.

“No, no, no way. No. No. No. No, Sam. No. Absolutely not,” she grabs her shirt but her hands start shaking violently and she throws it back to the floor. She goes for the sweater.

“Just hear me out, please,” I can barely move.

“No, no, no,” she put the sweater on. She stopped laughing. I see how her chin starts to wobble. Tears are coming down her eyes. “No, Sam, please, please, don’t do this to me, please, I beg you, please Sam, please don’t make me do this,” she is sobbing and my heart is broken. I can feel my eyes burning.

“Dana, please, just hear me out,” I take a step towards her.

“NO!” She screams and something breaks somewhere. “I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!” She is screaming at the top of her lungs. Something flies across the room. “YOU PROMISE! YOU! PROMISE! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” She keeps screaming at me. The lights go out. She’s hyperventilating. She clasps her hand into fists and roars at the top of her lungs. I can hear voices overlapping. I see shadows moving on my peripheral vision. Dana crumbles down to the floor and cries covering her face with her hands. I have never seen her like this. I kneel next to her and I put my arms around her. She fights a little but then gives in. I hug her and between gasps of air, she keeps asking me “Why? Why are you doing this to us? We are good, we are happy, I love you, I love you so much, please don’t do this, please, Sam, I beg you, I beg you, Sammy, please, baby, please.”

“Dee, I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but we have to find him, we have to stop him. I’m so sorry, but you are the only one who can do this. I need you. I need you to help me stop him.” Dana keeps crying in my arms. 

 

 

 

 

 

Jody's calling me. That’s weird.

“Hey, Jody, what’s up?”

“You need to come here now,” she says without preamble.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” I just got out of the shower.

“No, Sam, you need to get here _now_. Dana called, she is coming here.”

“What do you mean?” I almost drop my phone. I haven’t heard from her for over two weeks. Not since Chicago. An awful couple of weeks without her.

“She called me to tell me she’s gonna help us. So get your ass here NOW.” Jody hangs up.

 

I get to the station on record time. When I walk into the building, I see Doug standing by the printer, taking the paper out the tray and scribbling something on each sheet.

“Doug, what the fuck?” I can’t bother with manners.

“You tell me. Jody is in the back, getting everything ready. You should go.”

I get down the hall and I see Kat coming my way.

“We are in the back, the deposit room,” she pass running beside me.

When the hall makes a turn, I’m face with boxes and a lot of crap on both sides of the hallway. I can see Will is empting the old interrogation room we used as a deposit. Will gives me a little nod and keeps doing his thing. I walk in and I find Jody and Pamela hanging individual pieces of paper on the wall.

“Guys?” It’s a giant map. They are putting up a map the size of the wall.

“Hey, Sam,” Pamela greets me after casting a glance on my direction.

“What is this?” I’m still in shock.

“Dana said she needed maps,” Jody explains.

“Accuracy,” Pam adds.

When we began to found bodies across the state lines Victor said we needed more resources. So our project became an official federal investigation. The Bureau took most of our notes and all the information we gather in the last year. There were so many counties, states and law enforcement departments involved that they decided to take everything back to Chicago and establish an investigation base there. Victor was left in charge of the whole operation. When I asked Dana for help, I thought maybe she would come with us to Chicago and we would have found a way to use her abilities the same way I began using mine to find missing people. That’s how everything started. I'm not talking about the Dark Side of the Rainbow Project, I mean how my own personal quest started. My calling, like Victor likes to say. How I became the Hell Hound. What a mess.

 

I should have known that Dana would play by her own set of rules.

 

After almost two hours, everything is ready. There is a giant map of the US mounted on the wall. There are pencils, pens, sharpies, post-its, pins, stacks of paper, roadmaps. Everything is on the floor. Dana had been very clear about it, no furniture in the room. Jody had wanted to use the conference room but Pam had suggested we used this room in particular so we would be able to watch her from the other side of the one-sided mirror.

“Besides, things are gonna get ugly. It has to be a room you're not going to miss,” she had explained Jody.

 

Now everything was ready and Jody, Pam, Doug and I were waiting on the breakroom for Dana to show up. Will and Kat were on the front, keeping appearances. My skin is crawling with anticipation and dread. Pamela is by my side.

“You are doing the right thing,” I know it's meant to be reassuring.

“I’m not so sure anymore,” I sigh. I look at Jody and Doug, they’re nervous, itching with anticipation as well. This is their investigation as much as it’s mine. We're all part this hunt, including Pamela.

“This is big, Sam. Really big and really bad. We are way out of our league, kid. We need to bring in the big guns,” she had said to me a few months ago, when we were on the burial sight of our twelfth missing person.

And now, the Calvary was coming.

“She’s here,” Pam said and a moment later Kat popped her head on the breakroom and echoed her words. My heart shrunk, my stomach hit the floor and my lungs refuse to do their work. Pam took my arm and led me out of the room behind Doug and Jody. Dana was inside the map room already, looking at it. She's wearing tennis shoes, an old pair of jean and an old Vassar hoodie. Her hair is up in a messy bun. My heart is pounding in my chest. There’s a big bottle of water and a few bags of gummy bears at her feet. She turns around acknowledging our presence. Jody greets her with a kiss on the cheek and moves away to the adjacent room. Doug coyly shakes her hand and follows Jody. Pam hugs her for a long minute. Dana’s face is almost relaxed. She says something to Pam’s ear and Pam nods. They break up the hug. Pam leaves. Now it’s my turn. It’s my turn and I want to tell her I’m sorry. Dana is avoiding my gaze. I can’t pass the lump in my throat.

“I’m sorry I went radio silence with you,” she says. “I just needed some time. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She’s apologizing for not answering the phone since we last met.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Dee,” I manage to blurt out. She huffs. She's stalling. She wants to tell me something, I can see the wheels turning inside her head. I want to hug her; I want to tell her I’m sorry for breaking my promise, for taking her on my crusade, for involving her in this terrible quest. She's playing with the ring on her left hand. Finally, she meets my eyes and my heart breaks all over again. She’s struggling to keep up a smile.

“Sammy, you have to promise me—her voice cracks and she clears her throat before continuing—promise me that you are going to take care of yourself. Just, please, don’t make anything stupid, OK?”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. Once again, I feel like she’s holding things back. So, I tell her what she wants to hear.

“I promise,” I reply. She huffs; she actually huffs and shakes her head. It’s her way to tell me _What am I going to do with you?_

“You’re an exceptional man, Sam Winchester,” she says and I can feel tears running down my face. “It has been a true privilege to get to know you. We sure had a hella of a ride,” she adds and does this thing with her hands, like she's taking something of her finger, but her ring is still there. I know it was a gesture pregnant with meaning, but I’m too broken hearted to think about it now. I’m about to say something but she turns around and shuts the door behind her before I can open my mouth. I know I made a mistake, a huge mistake.

 

At first, Dee just stays there, in the middle of the room, staring at the map. Then, she locks her hands together and stretches her back to the sides and back and forth. She moves her head around, describing big circles. She moves her shoulders and arms. She jumps in place a little bit.

“What is she doing?” Doug asks.

“She's getting ready,” Pamela replies.

“Ready for what?” He asks again.

This time, Pamela doesn’t answer.

Dana turns our way and smiles her most dashing smile, all teeth and wrinkles on the side of her eyes. It’s like a kick in my gut.

And then she turns around. She’s ready.

She claps one time.

The lights flicker.

Clap.

The temperature drops.

Clap.

All hell broke loose.

 

 

We’ve been watching Dana work for over three hours now. She has been drawing faces, writing names, dates, numbers, placing pins and post-its all over the map. From time to time, she takes a sip of water and a gummy bear. We witness first hand a lot of shit go down, things we can’t explain. Shadows, ghost figures out of the corner of our eyes. The temperature dropped so much, that we can see our breath. We hear muffled voices, whispers, weird noises. And the smell, the smell of death has invaded the whole station. Doug was so freaked out that Jody asked him to leave and go home. So, it’s just Pamela, Jody and me. Pamela seems overwhelmed but she is keeping it together.

“I always knew she was... I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life,” she said after the first hour went by. Pamela looked equally fascinated and terrified. I looked at the picture Dana was putting together. “The energy is just—Pam was struggling to find the right word for it—and she's holding back, Sam. She's holding back.”

 

“You were right, Sam. You were right all along. It’s not just him,” Jody looks at me after Dee sticks another rough sketch of a man’s face on the glass between us. On the bottom of the page, there's a name in a handwriting that doesn’t match Dana’s. She’s giving us the names of the victims, the location of the body, the faces of the perpetrators, sometimes they have a name, sometimes there is a small description, bits and pieces of a bigger narrative.

_I was coming back home and he was waiting outside my building._

_He followed me home from the library._

_They took turns to rape me and then one of them stabbed me. They all watch me bleed out. They hid my body in an empty lot._

_My mom thinks I run away. Please come and get me._

_He was sitting in the corner._

_He was looking for someone._

_He had a message._

She doesn't know how long has passed. The water is gone. The gummy bears don't do the trick anymore; she can only taste dirt, soil, water, death. He's getting closer by the minute. She tries to hurry as much as possible but her body isn't responding fast enough. She keeps reaching out to them, channeling all of them. Once she found the threat he left behind, it was relatively easy to conjure the hunted. And they hurt so much. They keep getting more restless, angrier, stronger. They're  _feeding_ on her. She has to keep it up. She hears a high pitched sound and ignores it. Her head is pounding and her vision is blurry. She's slipping in and out of the veil, so she can't really focus on her surroundings anymore. She hears the sound again.

 _Wait a minute._ _I know that voice_.

She tries to focus.

“Sophie?” She asks at loud.

Sophie screams again. This time, she hears the actual words.

_It's here!_

There's a banging on the door. Not the door-door, the vault door. Fuck. He's there. She tries to finish what she started as quickly as possible.

_OPEN_

_THE_

_DOOR_

Another bang.

_Someone’s inpatient._

Dana ignores it. She has work to do.

Another bang. This time, louder. The walls shook.

 _Almost finished_.

There’s an even louder bang and debris falls on the table in the center of the room.

She looks around. All the deposit boxes are open now. All except for one. She stands up and walks over there. Box number 1. There's no key for this one, never was. He said she wouldn't need anything if the time was right. And apparently, the right time was right now. Little door just opens. She takes the box from inside and places it on the floor, there's no room left on the table. Debris keeps falling over everything as the bangs on the door intensify.

BANG

BANG

BANG

Dana lifts the lid and takes the folded paper there was inside. On the paper, there is a sigil. A secret name. A powerful binding seal. And it’s a beautiful.

She walks over to the vault's entrance. She can feel him on the other side and he’s hungry, famish. She sighs. Time’s up. There’s no way out but to go through. So she takes a deep breath and as the door's hinges threaten to yield all the way, she finally pronounces his name aloud for the first time in this lifetime. The name she bestowed upon him when she claimed him.

 _Castiel_.

Thus, Castiel grips her tight and raises her away from the hungry beast on the other side of the door.

 

 

 

* * *

 

After four months, Jody call in a favor and the old interrogation/deposit room was gutted and remodel into the new break room. They added a window and a lot of iron into the design.

A few weeks ago, when Pam picked me up after my shift, she said it felt like a holy place.

“I just feel a low hum,” I said. “It's quite soothing.”

“It's weird. When she began, everything felt wrong. But towards the end, I felt like I was blasted by an invisible light,” Pam pays attention to a plant pot on the counter.

When I heard Sophie screaming, I tried to kick the door down to get to Dee. It was the bathroom experience all over again, only worse. It took a lot of strength both physically and mentally to face the ward Dana had arranged around her and the room. I know the only reason I was able to get through was because Dana was shutting down.

“Rowena recommended white sage, frankincense and basil,” I explain.

“Powerful choices. They sure like it here.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm walking in circles around the house. By the time I reach the patio for the tenth time, Cas joins me.

“Is this part of the process?” He keeps a step behind.

“Yes, and the cigarettes.” I explain raising the one in my hand.

“Have you reached to any conclusions?”

“Only that he's bluffing.”

“That was a pretty bold move for someone who's bluffing.” I know he's thinking about the gash I got on my back last night.

“Exactly. Think about it, Cas. If he can do this to me, why he hasn't come here yet?”

We keep moving.

“Because that's all he can do. If he were to come here, he'd have to fight both of us.”

“Precisely. He can get it up, but he can't keep it up. So he pretends he's lurking, when he's only making sure I'm not coming for him.”

“What is he waiting for?”

“For the right time, I guess. He has limited resources, he must choose the most effective and efficient move. If we discard a direct confrontation, what's left?”

“Deception. He'll try to throw you off your game by hurting someone you love.”

“Bingo! That leaves us with only a few possibilities. He can go after my blood or my friends. We know he likes to prey on women, but Mom's a tough cookie. Anna and Hunter are the most vulnerable, that's why I doubled my efforts regarding their security. On the other hand, my friends have other kind of security.”

“You think he's going after Sam.”

“It's the smartest move.”

“Sam's the strongest link, why would he take that risk?”

“Because he wouldn't have the same result. Two birds, one stone. He creates a distraction and he gets an extra juice box. If he gets to Sam, if he _actually gets to_ Sam, he'll hit me twice.”

Cas doesn't reply to that. I stop and turn around and I find him a dozen steps away. I retrace my steps.

“What?” The sun is on my face so I have to squint and shield my eyes with my hand. I can't really see Cas’ face but I know what he's thinking.

“Look, Cas, there's no way around this. Sam's been a part of this story the whole time. Whatever reason I was put here, it's connected to Sam. I…” I don't know if I should tell him this.

“I know that, Dana. I'm not oblivious.”

“OK.”

“You're walking into a trap, guns blazing, and I'm supposed to stay here and watch?”

“I did not say that.”

“But that's the general direction of this plan. You're going back to Sam and you'll face him together. I'll be in charge of the diversion.”

“I've learned my fucking lesson, Cas. I'm not leaving anywhere without you. It's you and me against the world, buddy.”

“And Sam.”

“Fine, yes, but that doesn't change anything, alright? Look, Cas, I..."

“You what?”

“I think I was put here for a reason..."

"And what's that?"

"Cleanse... Cleanse this world."

“You sound like a maniac. This isn't even your world to begin with.”

“No, but it was _given_ to us! And we can fix it! We can rebuild it from the ashes!”

“Now you sound delusional.”

“Where's the faith, buddy? It used to be the other way around, Cas! Now I have to convince _you_ there's a way out?”

“It appears to be the case.”

“You used to be fun.”

“I know.”

“What happened?”

“You. You happened.”

That was cold. Acting on instinct, I try to reach out to him but he withdraws and turns away. I watch him go back inside. I guess he doesn't like my plan.

 

 

 

Things I know about Cas: he can hold his ground like it's the fucking siege of Gibraltar. He kept his conversation to a minimum all day and I feel _cold_. We ate in silence, we did the dishes in silence, now I'm making tea in silence while Cas' in the living room reading in silence. He didn't like my plan but I never got to _actually_ explained it to him. It's like we have to settings: we're cool or we're cold. When we're cool, we laugh, we talk and we kiss (and kiss alone, goddamn!) with minimum friction, some sparks. When we don't agree on something, Cas can get so far removed from me, it's nerve wracking. At first, I kept snapping at him, trying to get a reaction out of him but he just went quiet every time. That's his reaction to everything upsetting, apparently. I have so much anxiety and frustration accumulated in me, it's hard to think. It's hard to think when all I want to do is punch him in the face. That's not true. What I really want to do is him. I want to do Cas. I want to fuck him until he begs for mercy. He’s not of that opinion, as far as I gather from the empirical data I accumulated over our time together. So much for our summer of love. 

I prepare the tea kettle and I stare at the kitchen window. I don't like this; I don't like to get the radio silence treatment. Makes me feel horrible. Like I'm alone in the world. I miss everyone. I miss my family. I miss my friends.

I miss Sam.

I need a hug.

A good old fashioned hug.

I miss Sam's bear hugs.

I feel a tug in my finger.

Wait a minute.

I look around. Sam's sleeping by my side. It's dark outside but I can see we're in Kansas. He doesn't look so good. I can see he's exhausted. Shit. If this is how he looks while he's sleeping, I don't want to know how he looks like when he's awake. Poor puppy.

I scooch over. I get closer and closer. It's not enough. I need a hug. And just like when we were actually together, he opens his arms and whispers _c'mere_. I'm not ashamed to say I plunge into his embrace like my life depended on it. He squeezed me hard against his chest. He's still asleep, I can tell for his steady breathing. When he catches me lurking around, he usually tenses a little bit, like he's not sure what to do; and he stops breathing. He thinks he hurt me. I left so he wouldn't get hurt. But he’s still in danger, so I left for nothing. And I have the nerve to drop by for a hug. What a fucking mess.

It's a good hug, though.

Something tells me it's time to go. So, reluctantly, I leave Sam behind. But before I leave, just a little kiss.

 

When I take the tea to Cas, I feel his eyes on me. If he minds about Sam, I don't think he'll say something about it. I'm about to leave the room when I feel his hand on my shoulder. I turn around and I meet his eyes. He's frowning at me.

"What?" It's hard to keep up with the moods.

"You're bleeding," he replies and I watch how he removes his hand from my shoulder and I proceed to stare at him for a solid moment. I think he touched me out of habit and then he remembered he was giving me the ice treatment and changed his mind. I find that to be very, very annoying.

"What do you want Cas?" I sound tired.

"You're bleeding," he repeats as he didn't know what I'm talking about.

I sigh and take a look at my shirt. Shit. There's a lot of blood. There's a lot of blood and now Sam's gonna wake up and freak out. I march to the bathroom and I close the door behind me. I remove my shirt and manage to look at my shoulder blade. Houston, we have a problem. My bandages are soaking with blood and all I can think of is Sam waking up and freaking out. Fuck!

_Please, don't freak out, babe._

I can feel him on the other end of the bed.

_Dana?_

I can see Sam standing behind me in the mirror above the bathroom sink. I turn around and he's sitting on our bed. The look on his face, oh dear. His eyes are focus on my patched up wound. He seems really upset about me being hurt and I know I shouldn't be feeling this good about him worrying over me. I do, though. It feels good. And when Sam looks at me all murderous like _I'm gonna kill whoever did this to you_ I smile. I smile because I feel like he has my back. And when he sees me smile, he's taken aback for a second.

_Thank you, Sammy._

He's so confused.

_I got this._

He nods.

And he's gone.

I remove the bandaged and take another look. It doesn't look good. Looks like I was bitten by a wild animal. Fuck tea, I need vodka. I open the door and I jump back a step when I see Cas standing on the threshold.

"What the fuck, man!?" I should get him a bell or something. He steps inside and closes the door behind him, like we're not alone in the middle of the countryside. He takes a quick look around and then he takes my elbow to make me turn around. This time, I see it coming, so I don't punch him for grabbing me. I kinda want to punch him, though. He assess my shoulder blade and turns me around again. I offer no resistance; I can play cool as well. Or maybe I'm just tired.

"Move. I need a drink before we do this," I think I'm gonna need some stitches. I wonder if Cas can handle it, I don't want to go to the hospital. Bam! Cas grabs my face and pulls me back with his weight until my ass hits the sink and then he grabs my ass and sits me on the sink and then he kisses me hard.

_What the—_

At first I'm confused, then I’m kinda into it but then I'm pissed.

I push him off me.

"You're not going to fuck your way out of it, buddy," I beam furiously at him. If looks could kill, I would be reduced to a pile of ashes by now.

"I can smell him on you." He yells at me. Well, he yells by Cas’ standards. He raised his voice a notch. Wait.

"Hold on, pal!" I get off the sink with my hands raised for emphasis.

"I'm not your fucking _pal_." He barks back.

"Fine! _Hold on, Your Majesty!_ Is that better?" No, it's not better. I think I made it worse. Cas is fuming now. Well, the equivalent by Cas’ standards. He grabs me by my wrists and starts with the kissing again. Fuck this guy. I won’t play along. He goes from rude and hard to desperate. He lets go of my wrists to cup my face. He trails kisses down my jaw and neck, and then he lowers one of his hands to the small of my back to bring me closer to him. OK, time to draw a line.

"Cas? Please, stop," I gently push him away.

"You asked me what I want. This is what I want, Dana. I want you," he says in a deep growl. Fuck, this guy.

"This is a mess," I point out and I'm not sure if I'm talking about my chomped shoulder or everything else for that matter.

"Let me fix it," he says still cupping my face. He kisses me lightly on the lips and moves up his hand from the small of my back to rest it on my wound. I jump in pain but he doesn't budge. I try to move away, but he holds me down. And then I feel his hand hot on my flesh and I gasp. He hushes me with a kiss. It burns, it fuckin burns and then, just like that, nothing. He slowly moves away from me.

"What the hell, man?" I'm not sure what just happened. I look around to see my back on the mirror. Holy fuck.

"You can _heal_?" I turn around to look at him. I can see in his gaze that he’s hurting. Shit.

"Yes," he replies and his voice sounds as tired as he looks. "I'm trying my best here, Dana. I know it's not easy for you but it's not like it's easy for me either. It's not easy to get used to who you are and how you look now. You're different from the last time we were together and I'm just doing my best to get to know this version of you. But it's really hard to do so when you keep running to Sam every time we have a disagreement. It's not fair."

Wow.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know."

"And I don't know what to do here, in case that escaped your attention. I don't know how to be around you. I feel like I’m the cheap copy of some majestic original; and I'm not even sure what that means, but it feels like I'm always letting you down.”

“You’re not letting me down. And you’re not a cheap copy, you’re just different.”

“Yes, in a bad way.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, that’s how I feel about it.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t help when you keep turning me down or when you get all frisky because you’re jealous or hurt.”

“I really want you, Dana.”

“Yes, you keep saying that.”

“And I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas. I’ve always have. You know that, right? Since the very beginning of this life, you were the most precious to me. I just didn’t think it was possible for us to be together. That’s all. But I didn’t give up. I never gave up on us. You need to understand that.”

“I understand,” he whispers. I hug him. He goes a little stiff before letting go. After a moment, he hugs me back. I get goose bumps all over. I hug him even closer and he squeezes me back.

“Thanks for healing me,” it’s my time to whisper. He rubs my back, which it’s sticky from all the blood.

“Let’s get you clean.” He breaks the hug and kisses my forehead.


	16. Ithaca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Odyssey is one of my favorite books ever. If you haven't read it yet, you totally should.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Benny says with his thick southern drawl as he wipes his hands on the apron.

“Hiya Benny,” I hug him. He hugs me back. We stand like that for a long minute in the kitchen. When we break the hug, my eyes are watery. I try to blink the tears away.

“When did you get here?” He asks me gently patting my shoulder.

“Just got here,” I reply looking around. Ellen made some improvements on the whole place over the years. “Looking neat, better than the pictures,” I add.

“Yes, Ash was in charge of the whole thing. Came out really good, huh?”

“Stainless steel, good call,” I touch the counters and nod.

“And a big ass sink, look,” Benny points out. He used to complain a lot about the sinks. “So, you drove here?”

“Nah, I flew from Chicago. Then took the train to Poughkeepsie and my uncle picked me up at the station. I’m staying over there,” I pace around.

“I bet he’s happy to have you.”

“Well, I am joy to be around, can’t blame him.”

“Just let me tidy up a little bit here and I’ll fix you a drink. You hungry?”

“You know me, I’m always hungry.”

“Guess some things never change. We got this new smoker on the back. People get crazy on BBQ nights. I can make you a mean pull pork sandwich if you want,” he offers.

“Oh my God, yes!” I can’t hide my enthusiasm.

“Yo Benny! Need a hand over here!” I hear a voice behind me and I turn around to see Ash standing on the kitchen door with grocery bags on both hands. He stops in his track and it’s gaping at me. I gape at him. The mullet is gone. I never thought I'd see the day. He kept his hair somewhat longer and he has a scruff.

“Ketch, is that you?” He asks me.

“No, the Queen of England. Of course it’s me, you dumbass!” I huff.

“Oh, it's you a’aight,” he says leaving the bags on the counter and I walk over to give him a big hug.

“Ohmygod,” I hear Ellen somewhere behind us and then I’m wrapped by another set of arms. “I can’t believe you’re here, Ketch,” she says and I chuckle. The weight on my shoulders is lifted and I feel my heart lighter, warmer.

“I missed you,” I manage to squeeze through the family hug.

 

 

 

“I can believe you still serve this drinks,” I’m looking at the cocktail menu.

“Are you kidding me? Everyone knows that you have to have a _Rubicon_ to ace your finals. It’s the lore,” Ellen is picking at the rest of her sandwich. I laugh. “What? You didn’t think they would stick?” She nudges me.

“Not really, we were just fooling around.” I vaguely remember the night Jo, Ash and I came up with these drinks. We were high as fuck and we raid the kitchen afterwards. Benny wasn’t happy but he covered us, as usual.

“You always had good ideas, Ketch,” she takes a bite. “Most of the time, at least,” she adds after she swallowed the last of her sandwich. “Remembered that time y’all got the munchies and you started baking at three a.m.?”

“You'll have to be more specific, Ellen, there were a lot of nights that started with us three high and—or drunk in the kitchen after our shift.”

“You’re right. I mean the JK Special, we still serve it after hours.”

“Gingerbread brownies and English stout,” I laugh. Ash had come up with the name, he thought it was a perfect depiction of Jo and I.

“I mean, sure, you used to smoke a lot of weed and drink a lot, but you were good kids. You just loved to hangout in the kitchen, and under the influence you made a mess, but y’all had good ideas. I loved to hear you three brainstorming after closing time. And you always cleaned after yourselves. I was always proud of y'all.”

“You are an awesome mom and a terrific boss, Ellen,” I smile at her broadly.

“I always figured it was better for you to drink and smoke in here. Better here than some shady back alley,” Ellen shrugs.

I have a sip of my beer. “This is good,” I nod at the glass.

“Brewed in Rhinebeck. Buy local, also your idea,” she raises her own glass and takes a sip. “How do you feel?” So much for small talk.

“I got all the way here. I’d called that progress.”

“No shit. You look better, Ketch, healthier. Don’t get me wrong, you still look a little bony and rough around the edges —I laugh— but all and all…” she trails off.

“Well, I have good days and bad days, you know. One day at the time and all,” I don’t want her to get the impression that everything is peachy. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I suppose it has something to do with that tall handsome New York guy, huh?” Ellen squints at me.

“That. Mother. Fucker,” I bang the table with my fist. Ellen burst in laughter.

“What did you expect? He’s all about spilling the tea!” She teases me.

“I know! Such blabbermouth! What the fuck?” I pretend to be pissed.

“Wait to see the pictures he send me,” Ellen looks through her phone.

“What? I didn’t send him pictures of Sam!”

“Oh, honey, that won’t stop your uncle. Here, scroll down.” I take the phone and I can’t believe it. There’s like a million pictures of me and Sam together. I can tell some of them were taken without us knowing, but others, we are looking right at the camera.

“Hell, no —I recognize the context and realized my uncle wasn’t there. No, no, no —I show Ellen a picture of mom, Sam and me— Bobby took this one! —I show her the one with Pam, Sam and me at my mom’s store— and my mom took this one!” I’m getting really pissed, so I hand her back the phone. “Un. Fucking. Believable.”

Ellen is laughing so hard, she has to wipe tears.

“Don’t get mad, he’s just happy for you,” Ellen nudges me again. I’m chewing my bottom lip. I can’t believe it. “I’m happy for you too, Ketch. I really am. And I’m glad you make it all the way here. I know it wasn’t easy, so I really appreciate it.”

“Sorry it took so long.”

“I know, honey, I know. But you are here now, and that’s all that matters. So, yeah, thank you for coming. And thank you for helping us. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You’ll always have a home here, you know that, right?” She grabs my hand and squeezes it.

I try to keep my shit together, but I can feel my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry, Ellen. I’m sorry I got Jo killed. We should have stayed home,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. Ellen shakes her head.

“Oh, Dana! It wasn’t your fault, honey. You have nothing to apologize for, absolutely nothing, you hear me? I should be thanking you! I should thank you for loving my daughter like no one else did. That child was a hot mess when you met and you lifted her up and gave her the best years of her life. So don’t you dare saying otherwise or I’ll have to smack some sense into you.” She stands up and hugs me. I melt into her embrace and now I cry as I haven’t cry in a long time.

“I just miss her so much,” my voice came out small and hoarse.

“I know, honey, me too. Me too,” she kisses my crown. “You were the best thing that ever happened to her and we are very lucky to have you in our family.”

 

 

 

“So, how's Gavin?” I ask as I sip my bourbon. It’s cozy here.

“Still in England with his mother,” Fergus replies. We are sitting on the lazy chairs in the back porch of his house. He renovated it a couple of years ago and now it's all glass and fancy plant pots. It's a good thing, though, otherwise we would be freezing our asses. Fergus also installed lights across the backyard and a sturdy fence to keep deer out of the property.

“Nice try, that’s a location,” I glance at him. He laughs. “When was the last time you talked to him?” I pursue what mom and Sam call the interview approach.

“June.” Shit. We talk on the phone almost every week. “But I text him occasionally,” he continues. “His replies are mostly monosyllabic. Sometimes he manages a full sentence. On a very good day, he asks about your mother and you girls.” I seriously doubt that. Gavin doesn't like me one bit. Never had. “Do you still send him a Christmas gift?” Ok, detour. I’ll take it.

“Every year.”

“You didn't kill his puppy, Dana,” he rolls his eyes so far up it has to hurt.

“Yeah, well, he thinks I did, so...” I shrug. It's the guilt, I always felt guilty about the kind of relationship we have. Or lack thereof.

“So you send him expensive shit over for Christmas?”

“Yeah, I mean, he's family.”

“A wise man once told me family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either…,” he trails off.

“Please don't quote Bobby on me, I'm not drunk enough. And besides, Gavin's your kid. Your ex-wife, however, she can suck it,” I laugh it off.

“What can I say? I was young, mistakes were made,” he scoffs.

“Stop quoting me!” I laugh and Fergus follows. This is nice. This is really nice. I love my uncle.

“I miss you, kid. I'm glad you came all the way here,” he says after a moment.

“I'm happy to be here too,” I reply. And I mean it. Last time I was here, well, that didn’t go as smooth as everyone hoped.

“How are you feeling?”

“I'm exhausted, to be honest. It was hard to walk into the bar but I powered through.”

“And?”

“Dunno...Everything looks different but it feels the same, it's weird.”

“Did you see her?”

“I didn’t go to her room.”

“But you still see her around?”

I pause.

“It's different with her. I don't see her like I sometimes I see Dad. It's more of a warmth feeling here in my belly. And the light, especially the sunlight, I can tell for the way that… I don't know how to explain it. But Jo —I have to clear my throat— she's not around as much as she used to…”

“Why is that?”

“Because she knows better, I guess."

Last time I try to reach out to her I drown in the fucking bathtub. And I don't want to bind her to this realm. It wouldn't be fair and she sure as hell doesn't deserve it.

“Do you think about her?”

“Obviously. Just because she's dead it doesn't mean I stopped loving her. And of course I miss her, she was my best friend. And I miss the person I was when we were together.” I know it sounds corny, but I don't know how else to put it. No chick flicks moments, dammit.

“I know what you mean.” Fergus offers to refill my glass and I accept. He rolls two tobaccos and we smoke in silence for a while. I wipe a tear or two and sip my bourbon like the tough shit I think I am.

“What about Sam?” he asks.

“What about him?”

“Do you like the person you are with him?”

“I like the person he is.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“It's complicated.”

“Let’s hear it.”

I think about it. I think about Sam. I think about how he makes me feel.

“You’re overthinking it, Dana,” Fergus pushes me.

“I'm looking for the right metaphor,” I scold him. “You above all people should appreciate the accuracy and adequacy of the form.”

“You're so full of shit, darling. Quit stalling.”

“Fine, jeez. Sam’s like... rocket fuel,” I prompt.

“That's your metaphor?” He's vastly disappointed.

“Yes. And I'm the fucking Challenger,” I add.

“Elaborate,” he gestures me to continue.

"When I'm with Sam, I feel like I can do whatever I want. Literally,  _whatever_. I feel he has my back in a way I didn't think it was possible. He's such a great human being, sometimes I'm just dumbstruck by his ethics. He's so committed to helping people, it's inspiring. I mean, sure, sometimes he's a major pain in the ass, but that's what I like about him. Or how he's not afraid to admit he's wrong or that he fucked up when he did. Mostly, I feel he gets me. Like, he  _gets_ me. And when he doesn't, he tries. It's overwhelming sometimes. If he were to ask me the world, which he wouldn't under any circumstances, I would give it to him in a silver platter. It's a strange and disturbing feeling, but he brings the very best and the very worst parts of me."

"Sounds like love to me." I laugh.

"Remember when I told you about the fight we had the other week?"

"What about it?"

"Well, I kinda omitted the part when I yelled I was in love with him. You know how I like to cheap the moment, but this time was a major  _oh fuck_ moment. And he told me he loves me too. So, yes, we love each other. We are there, out in the open. I'm in a monogamous apple pie loving relationship with Sam fucking Winchester, and all I can think of it's _please, don't fuck this up_ , because I feel like Icarus flying too close to the sun. See where I'm going with this?"

“Holy shit,” Fergus exclaims under his breath.

“That’s right. And we’re passed pretending nothing happens when I lose it, Fergus. I'm very worry about him getting hurt." I stare at my glass.

And that's the tip of the iceberg. I'm also very mad at myself for thinking that I could handle it. That's delusional and self-indulging at the same time. There’s no way I can't get away with this. I shouldn't have helped him. I knew it was going to backfire eventually but I was prideful and selfish, and thought ‘yes, I can help him,’ and then ‘yes, one date,’ and then ‘yes, stay the night’, all the way pretending that I’d deal with the consequences later. It’s always ‘later’. And now, here I am, neck deep in an _actual_ relationship with Sam while a fucking perfect storm is cooking inside me. At this rate, my  _oh fuck_ moment it's going to be a shit storm of biblical proportions.

A few minutes go by in ominous silence.

“So what are you going to do?” The expression on my uncle’s face is a mixture of compassion and preoccupation.

"I don't know. I guess we will figure it out together." I stare at some point in the back of the property, deep into the woods. I could see in the window reflection how my uncle nodded in silence by my side, lost in his own thoughts.

My phone beeps. I got a text. I don't have to look to know who is it. I take that as my queue to wrap it up.

“I'm going to bed. Thanks for the Holy Water,” I stand up and give my uncle a kiss on each cheek. I grab my phone and my cigarettes.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he chimes.

“Goodnight,” I reply back as I make my way upstairs.

I check my phone.

 

We could FaceTime, but I look like shit.

I make my way to my room. Fergus keeps it clean and tidy for me. Ok, maybe that's why Gavin hates my guts. So I always had a place in my uncle's house, cry me a river. I'm already in my pajamas, so I go to the bathroom, pee, wash my hands and my face and then I call Sam. He picks up at the second ring.

“Hey,” he says on the other side of the line and I can _feel_ his smile, which makes me smile. What a fucking asshole.

“Hey,” I growl back.

“Kat says hi." OK, not that kind of call, fine.

“What a C-blocker,” I reply under my breath. I put him on speaker and pick the toothbrush and the paste.

“How are you?” He continues like nothing happened.

“Hmm, I was planning on lying so you would fuck me over the phone, but now that that's not on the table, there's no point to it. So, to answer your question, I'm pretty tired. I think I'll hit the sack in ten. But I'm going to hump my pillow first.”

He laughs, and it's a good sound. He's going to retaliate eventually for this dirty talk.

“Did you visit Ellen?” He continues easily.

“Ya ay di,” I reply with the toothbrush in my mouth.

“What now? What are you doing? Are you eating?” I like how he always assumes I’m eating. Most of the time he's right.

“Wai,” I finish brushing and I rinse my mouth sipping the water straight of the faucet. “I was brushing my teeth. I know it's a big commitment on my part, but I'm so full. We ate a whole chicken for dinner. And two bowls of ice cream for dessert. I don't think I'll need a complimentary snack. And yes, I visited Ellen.” I walk back to the room and I open a window. I need a cigarette.

“How did it go?” He’s being careful.

“Fine, I suppose. I mean. Yeah, it was nice seeing her,” I pick a cig and light it up. “How about you?” Time to change the subject.

“Well, I got a call,” Sam says and I pause.

“On the land line?” That's our code for Sam's visits. They are not visits _per se_. It's a code for Sam's thing.

“Yep. I'm going to do some research tonight and see if something sticks up,” he's getting better and better and I'm worry. I'm worry about a series of possibilities that might unfold. For example, that he can get too much attention and become a _thing_ around in Kansas, or maybe he’ll draw the attention of the FBI, which could be worse, or maybe he will get himself shot, but that's always a possibility either way. But mostly I'm afraid about other stuff. Like the stuff that goes bump in the night. Does Sam know I worry?

“I'll be careful. I promise, Dee,” he replies my unspoken question.

I huff. Stupid synchronicity thing.

 

 

 

I'm staring at the ceiling as I wait for the sleeping pill to kick in.

Anytime now.

The room is different. I like that. I like the bed on this side. It's harder to picture Jo here. Harder, not impossible. I stay put. I don't reach out. Ok, time to get off this train of thought.

I think about Sam. Sam makes me smile. I like to make him smile. I like when he's a happy moose. Happy moose makes me happy. I don’t like when Sam is not happy. I think about how upset he was when we fought. It was our first fight and I guess that's why I still feel bad about it. He was really ready to leave. Actually, he was _about_ to leave. He didn't, though. But what the fuck. I did nothing to stop him. He would have left and I would have done squat. Ok, this is not helping.

I keep coming back to the last time I was here. Man, that was an epic meltdown. How the fuck did I leave the house in the first place? Fucking Houdini, that’s how. I vomit for days after that. I was so freaked out when I woke up. Mom always keeps it together. Dad taught him that. Fergus lacks training. He was freaked out too. And relieved. And scared. I honestly thought he was a demon. What a fucked up vision, man. That godforsaken waste land. Shit, this isn’t helping at all. What the hell.

 

 

I tell myself it’s OK to bother Sam. It’s not like I forced him, he offered. It’s OK to lean on him. It’s OK.

 

After talking with Sam, again, I think I’m ready to finally get some sleep. I count to five backwards and I’m dead to the world. To the world of the living.

 

The world of the dead, however.

 

_I’m looking for you. I’m screaming your name. I hear your prayer. I hear you praying to me, calling my name like a mantra. My heart doesn’t beat furiously in my chest, but I think it should. I’m furious, why wouldn’t my heart be furious as well?_

_The ashes. The blackened sand. The spilt horizon of this waste land. The scorched trees. The filthy snow. Your soul as a beacon guiding me. I scream your name._

_I gave up everything, for you. So I’ll keep fighting, for you. I hold on to you._

 

He touches my shoulder and I wake up with a jolt. I look around. The room is empty. He’s not around. But I can smell him. His scent lingers in the air, honey and summer storm. The sun is rising, I can see the light. The birds are quiet.

 _You don't have to leave._ I catch myself in silent plead. I don't know why, but I shift in my bed to make room. I turn around looking for his blue eyes but the blackness swallows me again.

 

 _Well, that's a first._ He looks at his hand with awe. Something is definitely shifting. She's different. Castiel lies back down. Maybe if he concentrates enough, he can lie back down by her side. She said he could stay. Well, that's not true. She said he didn't have to leave. Semantics. However, there are more pressing matters.

 

I know your name, of course I do. I gave that name to you. Why can't I remember it? It feels like I missplaced it, and now I can't find it. Like I can't find you. How am I supposed to find you? I've been walking in circles, I'm sure. Everything looks the same in this fucking woods. Where the hell are you?

 

 _I'm here_.

 

Dammit. I run. I run to meet you. I didn't know I could run this fast. I can see you, I can see you now, crouching by the stream. Oh my God. It's you. It's really you.

You turn around and you smile at me.

Oh my God.

I forgot how beautiful you are.

 

 

 

I wake up at the edge of the bed. Judging by the light, it's past noon. I put a hoodie and come down. Everything is so quiet. Guess my uncle is not home. I go to the kitchen and make a fresh pot of coffee. I find a sticky note on the fridge. It's my uncle's hand writing. _Went to work. Be back after six_ , _call me if you need anything_. Cool. I'm cool. I pour a big mug of coffee and drink it in the former porch. I guess it's the sun room now. I answer some emails and place a few calls. By the time I'm done, I'm on my third mug of coffee. I should eat something, but I feel like going outside. I walk in circles around the backyard. When my uncle first moved to this house, this was only grass. A big rectangle of grass. Now, you can call it a garden. Guess mom helped him. Of course she did, I bet the sun room was her idea. The marijuana plants were Fergus’ idea, of course. Anyways, I can still walk in circles around the backyard. Around the garden. Around the woods. Wait. I don't walk around the woods. Shit. I'm missing something. I look around. I have a serious déjà vu. I'm forgetting something. Something important.

 

 

 

“Dana, what the hell are you doing?” I hear Fergus behind me. I guess is after six.

“What does it look like?” I glance over to meet his eyes but he's fascinated by the fire. It's a nice bonfire.

“Why have you lit a bonfire in the middle of the woods?” He can't move his eyes away.

“I don't know,” I reply. “There was this fugly dead tree here and I just…,” I needed to burn it. Make it burn. Burn the tree.

 

 _Burn the tainted tree_.

 

Last time she was home, she disappeared in the middle of the night. They found her wandering through the woods at the break of dawn in her pajamas. Barefooted. In the snow.

He looked out the window and noticed the footprints. That's when his mental alarm went off. He run to her room and found it empty. Then, he barged into Rowena's room.

“Ro, wake up. Dana's gone. I think she's in the woods.”

“What? I thought you set the alarm last night?”

“I did. It's still on.”

“Then how the hell did she get out?” Rowena was already getting dressed.

“How the hell would I know? Get your boots, it snowed last night.”

“Bloody hell.”

Rowena came down with a blanket and Dana's snow boots. They followed the footprints and found her digging a big hole, with her bare hands, next to a dying tree. He knew better than to touch her when she was gone like this. Rowena managed the situation.

“What are you doing here, pumpkin?” Rowena talked to her the same way she did when she was a child.

“This is polluted. I have to, I have to clean it up," something else was using Dana's voice.

“It's a wee cold out here, dear, why don't we go inside?” Rowena is looking around, checking the surrounded area.

“She's not here,” Dana's voice showed something like amusement. “Let me, let me cleanse this stain. Let me just, I have to… He, he touched this. It's like an open wound, you, you have to clean it or it will get infected.” Dana keeps digging, and when she reached the frozen dirt she used her fists.

“Who do you serve?” Rowena raised her voice. Dana stops in her tracks and raises her gaze for the first time.

“I serve my kin,” she replies.

“Then stop hurting her.” Rowena pointed Dana's fists.

The thing wearing Dana looks at her hands. Her knuckles were bloody. She looks back at Rowena.

“He was here.” She explained.

“I know.” Rowena replied.

“He soil this land. It has to be purged now. He could come back. I have to…” she trailed off and stared back at Dana's hands.

Rowena looked at Fergus and nodded.

“Jellybean --he commanded-- take five.”

Dana blinked rapidly. He thought she had snapped out of it and step closer to help her out of the hole she dug. But Dana panicked and tried to get away from him. Fergus managed to tackle her down which only made it worse, he immediately realized. Dana pushed him off and stumbled  away a few more feet until she collapsed. Rowena kept looking around and slowly approach her daughter all the while using her inside voice.

“It's alright, pumpkin, it's alright.”

Eventually, Dana really snapped out of it. Rowena wrapped her in the blanket and helped her get her boots on. They quietly made it back to the house.

 

 

 

Now, Fergus was sure Dana had finished the job. The desecrated tree was burning. The wound was finally being taken care of.

 


	17. New York State of Mind

I'm pacing, again, up and down the waiting room. This time, I'm alone. I send Gabriel home, so he could shower and have a proper night sleep. He was reluctant but so wear off that he didn’t put much of a fight.

 

“OK, I’ll leave but text me when she wakes up. I’m gonna call Charlie, so they don’t freak out. Damn it, we had a meeting scheduled… I forgot about that. Ok, I’m leaving. Please, Sam, keep me post it,” he puts his leather jacket and runs a hand though his hair.

“Of course, Gabe. Thank you so much for everything.” I smile at him. I breathe in, out. He smiles back, pads my shoulder.

“I’m too old for this shit,” he murmurs under his breath and takes off.

 

 

Ketch barges in wearing a t-shirt I’m pretty sure it’s mine and her laptop. I’m not sure exactly when our relationship became so domestic. It must be some serious business because she has her glasses. She climbs on the bed and hands me the laptop.

“It’s my quiet time,” I scold her.

“The kids send me the numbers,” she gestures me to grab the computer. I put my book down.

“This can’t be right,” I say after looking over the projections.

“That’s what I told them,” she shrugs. “Kevin double and triple check and assured me this is it.”

“This is huge,” I gape at the spreadsheet and the graphics.

“That’s what she said,” she deadpans.

“Oh, honey. When this gets to Chicago, we are definitely going on a family trip to Disneyland.” I hand her back the laptop and I get out of bed. “Get dress, Papa, we need to celebrate! And tell the kids the drinks are on me!” I watch Dana’s face lit up and I know it’s going to be a good night. 

 

 

 

What a shitty night.

“Mr. Larsen, what’s your relationship with Miss. Ketch?” The police man taking my statement asks me and I hesitate. I fucking hesitate.

“Does it matter, officer…?” I can focus my sight on the name badge.

“Sergeant Turner,” he replies.

“Ok, Sergeant Turner, Dana Ketch is my friend and we work together. How is that relevant?” My head is throbbing and the stitches on my forehead are itching. I hold the ice bag with my right and look at my watch. It’s fucking 5 a.m.

“Routine questions, Mr. Larsen.” I know the drill. We’ve been through this the last couple of times we visit the ER. Turner suspects something's going on. “Would you mind going through the events of tonight one more time?”  I know can’t refuse. So, I go over the whole damn night again.

“And you knew the attacker?” He asks me again.

“No, neither of us knew him.”

“What did he say to you?” This man is relentless.

“He called me faggot, he called Ketch, um, Dana, an abomination, he called Kevin a fucking chink, do you want me to write that down for you?” I’m losing my shit and I know that’s not the wisest thing to do. Maybe I should call Naomi and get the Law Department over here with all its might.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Larsen, I don’t mean to upset you. Can you tell me what happen next?” His tone hasn’t changed one bit.

“I asked him to leave us alone. He refused and tried to get to Dana so I shoved him off her. He hit me with a bottle —I gesture the cut on my forehead— and that’s about it. Now, may I see my friend?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“So you didn’t hit him back?”

“No, sir. I didn’t.”

“And you didn’t see who hit him?”

“No, I didn’t. I think I passed out when I saw all the blood,” I lie bluntly. “And then I woke up in the ambulance. Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, we were pretty drunk and it all happened way too fast. But it's not like we were alone in the club, so you have like a ton of witnesses. Ask around.” I keep on lying. “You have my name and my number and you know where I work. Call me, whatever you need. Just, please, it was a really long night and I have a concussion, for God's sake, I just want make sure my friends are alright.” I’m not sure he’s buying. But I made a good point. He only has to ask around to check the facts.

Ha. Good luck with that.

 

 

 

“What do you think?” John asks me when we get back to the precinct.

“There’s something fishy going on. I think the Larsen guy didn’t do it. His hands were neat. That kind of beat up leaves marks. But he was hiding something, of that I’m sure.”

“Well, he’s climbing the ladder at Roman Enterprises. I’m sure he has plenty of dirt in his hands. Big company fellas always do.”

“What did the girl say?” I can tell John has his own suspicions.

“Well, about the same. They were having fun and this random man starts yelling at them, calling them names. He tries to grab her, Larsen jumps in and shoves him off but gets hit with a bottle, drops to the floor, she tries to help him, didn’t see anything else,” John sums up.

“But she got hurt?”

“Yes, her arm. She thinks it was the attacker, when he tried to get to her. But she wasn’t sure, said everything happened really fast and they were pretty drunk.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don’t know. She was... hard to read. I talked to one of the nurses and apparently she has a colorful medical record. I looked it up and we already have it. Get this, hospitalized a couple of months after a car accident in 02; then committed for depression in a health facility upstate. Also two suicidal attempts, back in October 03 and again in October 06. She’s currently on therapy with one Dr. Blake. She's medicated and shouldn’t be drinking, that’s for sure. I already left a message to her doctor. But I don’t think she could hurt the man the way he was hurt. And Kevin Tran, the other kid, well, you saw him. Want me to call Sam, see what he could find out back at the club?”

“Yes, call him; let’s see if someone saw something, or anything.” John places the call and Sam gets it after the second ring.

“Hey, Sam, let me put you in speaker,” John says. “I’m here with Rufus.”

“Hey Rufus.”

“Hey, Sam, did you find something?”

“So hear this…” I hear Sam come up with variations of the same story. There are some details that stand out, like the girl that swears she saw the attacker in another queer-friendly club and the guy who thought the attacker had a mental breakdown right before he snapped. I need to know how the man got himself in the ICU.

 

 

 

I can't shake the feeling that this is what my nightmare was all about: I'm helpless; I can't really protect those around me, especially Dee. To be back in New York it’s already unsettling. To be back and to be in a hospital is just more than I can handle.

Someone says my name. I turn around, and I see the nurse I talked to when I got here. She gives me a little smile.

"She is awake now. The doctor would like to speak with you before though.” I nod and follow her down the hall. She walks up to the doctor and whispers in her ear. The doctor turns around in my direction and nods, smiling. The nurse walks away after giving me a reassuring smile. Everyone is smiling, this can't be good.

"Hello Mr. Winchester, I’m Dr. Cara Roberts."

"Is Dana OK?” I cut to the chase.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about that. I understand her mother is currently away, but if you get hold of her, I would like to talk to her as well. You see, there are some things I would like to discuss with her family.” She gives me a little smile. Shit.

 

 

 

The nurse told me Dee just woke up, but she is half asleep when I walk in. She gives me a groggy smile. Her left eye is bruised, and she has a cut on the cheek bone and bottom lip as well.

"Hey babe,” her voice sounds heavy with drugs and exhaustion. She sounds better than she looks.

"Hey there, love.” I lean to kiss her forehead and sit by her side.

"Broke my arm,” she says lifting her right arm, now casketed. She makes a pout and I can't fight the smile. I’m somewhat relieved.

"I know. You also have a couple of broken ribs,” I stare. She looks like shit.

"Oh, that explains a lot,” she touches her rib cage with a clumsy hand.

"Are you in any pain?”

"Nope. I'm high as fuck, thou. They gave me... _Something_. Don't know what, but it's good _Jerry_..."

"What? Who's Jerry?"

" _Jerry_ makes me sleepy but good sleepy. Where’s Gabe?" She's really high.

“I send him home last night; he needed to get some sleep. But I just texted him, he said he’ll drop by after lunch,” I tug a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Oh, great. Tell him to bring some coffee. And pie. Tell him to bring pie,” she's out of it. “Cherry pie…" She chuckles and dozes off.

"Dee,” I try to get her attention. "What happened?" I wish she just trusted me. They told me she fell off the stairs on a subway station, but she looks like she was on a fight.

"Who. Who happened,” she is _really_ out. They must have given her some of the good stuff indeed.

"Who happened?"

"You happened. And now he's angry."

"Who is angry?"

" _He_... _He_ is angry,” she says a little frustrated, like I'm not paying attention.

"Who is he? Why is he angry?" I try to follow her.

"Because I love you best and he doesn't like to share,” she replies like it's obvious.

"Who is he, Dee? Tell me who he is, please."

"You know who he is, babe. You'd seen him. He hasn't seen you yet, but he knows... He _knows_. And he’s really pissed,” she laughs a humorless laugh and chills run up my spine. "We shouldn't be talking about this. They are always listening. We should stop talking.” She shifts on the bed and lets out a painful groan. "We should go on a date sometime, Imma give ya my numba,” she adds after a moment.

"We are already dating, love. We are practically living together,” I fix her blanket and tug her tight.

"We are?" She sounds surprised.

"Yes, we are,” I really don't know what to make of this conversation. One thing is for sure, this is more than she ever told me. That's something.

"Awesome, that's awesome,” she dozes off with a halfway smile. "You are a good boy, Sammy, I'm glad you stayed.” She adds after shifting a little. “It's totally worth the beating,” she looks at me with a loving smile and I melt inside.

 

I watch her fall asleep. Fuck. I love her and I'm torn in two, because I just can't reach her, not completely. She’s always holding something back. I sigh and keep staring at her. A few minutes later, I notice a change in her expression. She tenses. She opens her eyes and stares at the ceiling for a long minute. I watch her in silence.

"Don't let them get to me; I can’t fight him off if he finds me.” She whispers with a clear but distant voice, and just like that, she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.

 

I'm overwhelmed by dread and shear horror. I do know who he is. Or I suspect I know, at least. He is the man, the thing, in my recurring nightmare. The man in the corner.

 

 

 

 

 

I see Mick leaving his building with a hot blonde by his side. They paused a minute by the door. Mick is telling her something but she looks so unimpressed, it’s kinda funny. He wants to get her attention; I can see it very clear. He gives her a little peck on the lips, squeezes her hand and turns around to leave. She watches him walk away, heading South. Hmm, should I approach her? I need to be sure it's her. Ok, she’s taking off. Now I have to follow her. I should call the number I have. Ok, the number Mick has. Fine, the number I stole from Mick's phone. Oh, she smokes. That's weird. Maybe she doesn't smoke inside the apartment? Ok, time to make the call. Shit, where is she going? Oh, coffee shop. I'll wait. I can wait. Oh, there she is. What is she doing? Oh, computer. I guess she's staying for a while. Maybe I could walk in, order something to go, make the call and check if it's really her. She doesn't look like a mess. What did Mick say about her? Something in the line of being a broken toy, full of regrets and daddy issues. But he said something else. _Pinocchio_ , he said she’s like Pinocchio, a puppet pretending to be a real person. What an asshole. Ok, I'm going in. Alright. Play cool. I should order something.

“Hi, can I have a caramel latte?”

Where is she? Did she leave? No, her stuffs are on the table.

“Yes, to go, please.”

“Actually, can you bring it to our table? We're over there.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. How did she do that?

“Follow me, Frodo,” she deadpans and I follow her to the table. She sits down and gestures me to join her. “Would you care to explain why you've been following me for the last 10 blocks?” She sips her coffee and stares at me. She's not Pinocchio. I repeat, not Pinocchio. Maybe a wolf in sheep's clothing. Definitely a wolf. Ok, let's do this.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a sketchy creep. My name is Gabriel Larsen and I believe we have a mutual friend,” I put on my business persona.

“I'm listening,” she puts her cup down.

The waitress brings my coffee and I thank her.

“Mick?”

“Who the hell is Mick?” She frowns and I can see up close her _I'm not impressed_ expression.

“Mick, blue eyed Englishman, dresses up really nice, Columbia professor?” I sip at my coffee.

“You mean Michael Davies?” She gets it now.

“Yes, Michael,” I put my coffee down. She smiles just a hint and stares at me. I can see she's weighting her options.

“Look, Gabe, I'm gonna call you Gabe. You can keep Michael for all I care. You seem like a nice fellow, even though you followed me here, but I'm gonna let that slide. I didn't know nor asked Michael about his, um, love life, and he didn't say anything in that regard. So…" She shrugs.

“You are not bothered he's banging some dude?” I ask just out of shear curiosity. Her frown deepens. Shit, she’s checking me up. She totally did.

“Why would I be bothered?” She squints a little. “Are you?” She adds. It's my time to check her out, up close. She has impossible green eyes and freckles across her cheeks and nose. She realizes what I'm doing and leans over the table.

“Gabe, please keep it in your pants,” she grins and she's all teeth and wrinkles around her eyes. She looks really young when she smiles.

“I don't care we are fucking the same guy,” I reply leaning towards her. “The problem is he's fucking around with us,” I take out my phone and hand it to her. She takes it.

“What am I supposed to see? Tell me it's not a dick pick,” she chuckles.

“Go to my email. Search for Michael's.” I lean back in my chair. I watch her scrolling through my stuff. That gives me the opportunity to stare again at her for a solid minute. She's is beautiful, in a scary kind of way. She's definitely not Pinocchio. Mick is full of shit. She's not a puppet pretending or wishing to be a real boy. She looks very real to me. I notice the change in her posture. She found the infamous emails.

“Sonofabitch,” she says under her breath. She shakes her head and then looks up at me. I see fire in her eyes. She hands me back my phone and leans back in her chair. Her expression it's blank, but her eyes, her eyes turned black with repressed fury.

 

Mick got it all wrong. This woman is a hunter.

 

I think she recognized my name when I introduced myself but she didn’t say anything about it. After the coffee, I suggested we take a walk. I noticed she got really jumpy and I recognize a person on the edge. Takes one to know one. When we left the coffee shop, she popped a pill from her bag and lit a cigarette. We walk in silence for a couple of minutes.

“You OK, honey?” I ask.

“He gave me an A- on that paper,” she takes a long draft and shakes her head, biting her bottom lip.

“You had a really good idea, he just twitched a little bit to sell it to me,” I explain.

“How did you know it wasn’t his idea?” She glances at me.

“At first, the syntaxes. Mick has a really particular phrasing and there were some passages that stick out,” I’m being honest and that’s a first.

“What about the idea?” She points out.

“Well, he has good ideas, I thought he was inspired and thinking outside the box,” I sigh.

“Yes, he has good ideas,” she sighs and I can tell we’re thinking about the same thing.

“Did he play Mystery Spot with you?” I ask. Dana jumps and turns to look at me eyes wide open. She nods and I shake my head. “I tough him that,” I add and she slaps me on the shoulder.

“Get out of here! You came up with that?” She stops walking.

“Yeah, I did. I was high on mushrooms in Peru once and…" I trail off.

“Dude, that’s awesome,” she chuckles and we resume our stroll. “What about the Hammer of the Gods?” She asks me and I roll my eyes. She slaps my shoulder again, this time harder and I wince. “You’re sick, man,” she laughs at loud and I can see why Mick is so infatuated with her. “Did Michael ever have any idea on his own?” She thinks at loud.

“Well,” I run my hand on my four days beard and Dana hits me again. “Please, stop hitting me,” I beg her and notice she stopped walking again. Oh. “Did _you_ came up with that?” I ask her. She nods. “Oh, really?” I can't help to look at her up and down. “What else have you teach him?” I’m having trouble focusing now. Dana chews her bottom lip and tilts her head up.

“Well, that I can recall…,” she begins counting with her fingers, “the ice thing, the cowboy thing, the underwear thing, the feather thing, um, he was so open minded about everything, I just could get all my kinks going… I guess it was the same with you?” Fuck. Me. “Gabe? You there, buddy?” She tries to get my attention but my mind has flown away. This woman was not what I expected.

“You taught him the cowboy thing?” I manage to say.

“Yes, I lived in Texas a couple of years, so I have field experience,” she explains with a shrug. I want to keep asking questions but I don’t think we should have this conversation in the middle of the street. We keep walking in silence for a while. I want to keep talking about our inclinations and maybe hook up with her and see where it goes, but I don’t think that’s really wise. I bet she’s even better than Mick and Mick is really good, so I’m kinda thrilled. But then, I watch her closely and I know she’s really upset although she’s playing tough. She doesn’t deserve this. I already like her too much.

“You know, we could sue him,” one call to Zach and Naomi and that could be easily arranged. Dana sighs deeply and scratches the back of her head.

“I know. I don’t want to,” she replies.

“Why?” I’m intrigued.

“I know he acted like a douche, but still…,” she trails off.

“Are you in love with him?” I sound bitter. She laughs, and it’s a bitter sound as well.

“No, Gabe, I’m not. Are you?” She smiles at me sheepishly.

“No, I don’t think so,” I reply after a moment. “It’s hard to tell with him,” I add after a moment.

“I’m sure he told you I have a ton of daddy issues,” she adds nonchalantly. “He told me so every chance he got. And the thing is, he’s mostly right,” I wait for her to elaborate but she doesn’t. “Plus, I have a _thing_ for blue eyes. And I really enjoyed Michael’s company for obvious reasons. But I don’t love him. I know that much. Nevertheless, he helped me with some shit. And for that, I’m grateful. So, I don’t want to sue him. I want him to know that I know, and that it’s over between us. I’ll settle with that. Is that OK with you?” She looks at me and I’m speechless. I feel like she doesn’t want me to be disappointed with her. I manage to nod. I will have to call Zach anyways, just to be sure. Shit, Michael has a type. Dana’s not the only one with issues. I know I don’t want to disappoint Richard.

I need a minute to think.

“Hey, what are you doing on Monday?”

I have an idea.


	18. Contingency Strategies

“She just has a colorful imagination, Arthur, that’s all.”

“Let me rephrase my question. Did I imagine my five years old daughter holding a conversation alone in her room in fluent Russian? Well?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Good. Now, do we agree on the fact that she couldn’t have learned by herself or otherwise?”

“Yes, we can agree on that.”

“Good. Now, do you understand why, when she talks about the boy with blue eyes who lives ‘here and there’ and ‘speaks funny’, I am inclined to think that this boy is not a figment of her imagination as we first believed?”

“Well, when you put like _that_.”

“Ro, she's talking to someone. And that someone is talking to her. Now, we always knew she was different, but we have to agree that this is more…”

“I know that, Arthur, I gave birth to the child! I carried her in my _womb_! Where are you trying to get at?”

“Nowhere, darling.”

“We are not going to get to see _any_ doctors, you hear me? There is nothing wrong with her!”

“I never said there was, Rowena. What I’m trying to say it’s that we have to be up to the task.”

“Are you afraid of her?”

“Of course not, she's our daughter. But she's not _only_ our daughter, is she?”

"She's something more."

 

 

 

 

 

“What’s this place, Dad?” Dana is holding her father’s hand and looking around with awe.

“This, jellybean, it’s a vault. This is where you store your most valuable items for safekeeping,” Arthur explains walking around with her.

“Why?”

“Because sometimes it’s not safe out there and you don’t want anybody to have what you think is important, so you keep it here. Each box has a number and there is only one key to each box. Every key is unique and can’t be reproduced by any means. And you saw how difficult was to get here, didn’t you? And we did have a key and all the paperwork in order. So imagine how hard would it be for a thief to get in here. Also, there is only one way in and one way out.”

“It’s a really big door.”

“It is indeed. That way, you can be really sure that no one will take away what’s important to you.”

“Oh,” she got the idea. “What else can you keep here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you can keep important things but can you keep other kind of things?”

“You mean like bad things, perhaps?”

“Maybe…”

“Tell me, sweetheart”

“Maybe I can keep something old?”

“Old? How old?”

“Very old.”

“Older than me? Or older than Grandpa?”

“Older than the world, Daddy”

“Of course, you can keep it here. The vault works both ways, you see, nothing gets in and nothing gets out. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Do you understand why I brought you here?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell the others?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Can we go now?”

“Of course, jellybean.”

“Can we get ice cream first?”

“Sure, but don’t tell your mother.”

“She already knows, Dad.”

“You’re probably right. She can always tell when we cheat.”

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m not raising my daughter to be a Catholic, Arthur.”

“What gave you the impression I'd do that?"

“The call I received this morning, from a _father_ wanting to speak to Dana.”

“Father Edlund?”

“So you _do_ know him!"

“Give me a moment, please. Dana? Can you come down a minute, please?” Dana came down holding her book with quizzical expression on her face. It’s reading hours, there should be no interruptions on reading hours.

“Father Edlund called, sweetheart.”

“Oh, Chuck?”

“Yes, Charles. Would you care to tell your mother who Chuck is?”

“Yes. Chuck is my friend,” Dana points out casually.

“Last Tuesday, when we visit the Botanical Garden at Cambridge, we were walking to the train stop and Dana heard her friend, right jellybean?” Arthur explains the context.

“Yes, he always had a beautiful voice,” Dana nods.

“Thus we follow the sound of his voice, and we arrived to the Church of Our Lady and the English Martyrs, a few streets down Hills road,” Arthur continues.

“Oh, did you now?” Rowena tries to keep her good mood. Dana nods.

“We walked inside and we found a few people. But Dana recognized her friend right away, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, he looks different on the outside but on the inside it's still the same,” Dana nods.

“What do you mean on the inside, pumpkin?” Rowena plays along. Dana looks at her father and when he nods imperceptibly, she answers.

“His soul. It's the same.”

“Oh, I see. And how did you meet Chuck exactly?” Rowena asks dreading the answer already. Another glance at her father for permission.

“We served Justinian together,” she explains.

“Justinian the Great, ruler of the Byzantine Empire around 500 a.C.,” Arthur fills in.

“I see. Can you recall all your previous lives?” Rowena asks casually.

“Not really. Sometimes it's bits and pieces. Sometimes… It depends on…" The child trails off.

“Depends on what?” Her mother smiles an encouraging smile.

“On who is with me,” Dana looks down at her feet.

“You remembered Chuck, though?”

“I recognized his voice first. Then I remembered. He used to serve the God of the Jews when we met the first time. I think we met other times too, but I'm not really sure. He serves the Christian God now.”

“And who did you served back then, beside the Emperor?” Rowena asks as she watches Arthur reaction. Of course, Arthur has his poker face on.

“What do you mean?” Dana tilts her head to the side.

“Did you serve God?” Arthur has no trepidations.

“No, of course not!" Dana chuckles.

“Why not?” Her mother asks next.

“Because I don't know him!" She points out still smiling at the absurdity of the question.

“Well, that's not at requisite in order to serve him. Almost no one has met him, yet they believe and serve him. It's call Faith." Arthur cuts to the chase. Dana frowns. Rowena takes the chance.

“Who do you serve, Dana?” She asks and observes the child's face lose all traces of youth.

“I only serve myself and my kin,” she says with a cold and dry tone.

A moment passes by in utter silence. Dana expression remains blank.

Arthur clears his throat.

“Jellybean, take five,” he says in a deep voice. Rowena realizes it's a command. Dana blinks several times and that seems to break the spell.

“Can I go back to my book?” She says in her cheerful and usual mood. She looks at her mother and then at her father.

“Sure, supper will be ready in half an hour,” Arthur says as he glances at the oven were a full chicken is roasting. “Do you want peas or carrots with your chicken? Maybe both?” He adds smiling at her.

“Can we have smashed potatoes?” Dana says as she turns around and  heads back upstairs.

“Sure,” he replies.

“Let Mama do it, Dad. Hers is better!" She chimes running up the stairs.

“No running, Dana!" Rowena raises her voice.

“Inside voices, Mom!" The child replies slowing down.

 

“I'll get the potatoes, you can put the water,” Rowena sighs.

“Fancy a drink before supper?”

“A drink it's not going to get you out of the pickle, Arthur.”

“I know, darling. I know. I’m sorry. Let me get that drink and we'll catch up.”

“Every time I leave this house I come back to whole different family! It's not fair. You keep leaving me out of everything. Do I need to start a bulletin on my own daughter?” Rowena is exasperated.

“Oh, I'm taking notes. You should too.”

“Arthur, please stop talking.”

 

 

 

 

“Are you feeling better?” Rowena asks touching her forehead lightly.

“A little bit,” Dana is on her side, hugging the pillow.

“What were you thinking, pumpkin?”

“I'm sorry,” Dana feels embarrassed after throwing up all over the kitchen floor.

“You know you'll get a gummy tummy if you eat that much,” Rowena tugs her in.

“I know,” Dana sighs.

“Then why did you eat them all?”

“Because….”

“Because what?”

“The taste.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I wanted to get rid of the taste,” Dana hides her face in the pillow.

“Dana, please look at me. You don't need to hide from me, alright? You can tell me.”

“I could taste the water, mud water. So I eat gummy bears to wash out the taste.”

“Does work?” Rowena tugs her hair to the side.

“Sometimes,” the child replies.

“Does it happen often?”

“Sometimes.”

“Next time, you tell me. Maybe we can find a better way to wash out the taste.”

“Do you believe me?” Dana looks at her with puppy eyes.

“Of course, my sweet child.”

“You don't think it's strange?”

“Life's strange, Dana. Besides, I've seen the girl from the swamp.”

“You have?” She almost jumped off the bed.

“Oh, yes. She likes to lurk. She looks a wee feisty, too.”

“Oh, yes. She is always looking for trouble!"

“I figured that much. So, next time she comes around, you have to promise me you'll tell me so we can deal with her together. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. Now try to get some sleep, I'll let the light on.”

“Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, pumpkin.”

 

 

 

 

“What do you think?” Dana shows Bobby the picture she took.

“Where did you find this?” Bobby narrows his eyes.

“Around.” Dana replies with a grin.

“How much?”

“Twelve hundred.”

“No way. In this condition?”

“Yep. I have the guy's word on this.”

Bobby scratches his beard.

“Let's get a look at it first.”

“OK. I'll tell Mom.”

 

Dana finished the prep for the first coat of paint. Her baby is looking good. Bobby is finishing something at the office, she could go ahead on her bike. Instead, she makes a cup of tea and drinks it admiring her job. She should wrap up and call it a day but she can't help lingering. She has Science homework and a paper to proofread. Argh! The contradictions!

“You deserve a beer, kid.” Bobby is admiring the job.

“On a school night? Really Bobby? Ain't you a role model.”

“I said you deserve one, not that you're gonna get one. Why don't you wrap it up? I think we can call it a day.”

 

Dana plays through the stations.

“Just pick one already!”

“Fine!” Dana leaves something country-ish. “Where did you put the mixes I made?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“You are  supposed to keep those, Bobby!”

“I think they're in the office somewhere. When you have your car, you won't need to worry about people touching your stuff.”

“I told you I haven't decided a color yet, don't try to rush me!”

“It's doesn't have to be one or the other, you know? You need to think outside the box. I know you think it's too much, but if you like it, then there's no arguing. It's your car, it's your choice. If want blue with two white stripes, then get the blue with the white stripes!”

Dana's eyes are wide open. A minute goes by in silence. Another one follows.

“Bobby, I want my car to be blue with two white stripes,” she says.

“You know the shade of blue and white you want?” Bobby replies.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Great. Also, I like boys _and_ girls,” she adds.

“Oh.” Bobby frowns a little bit. “So... it's Lisa _and_ Adam?” He glances quickly at her.

“Sometimes it's just Lisa, sometimes it's just Adam. Sometimes it's both, sometimes it's none.”

“Do Lisa and Adam know?”

“Yes, I told them.”

“And?”

“And they're OK with it.”

“Good. Are you OK with it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, dating is complicated as it is and you're dating two very different persons. Sounds like a lot of work, if you don't mind me saying.” Another quick glance.

Dana touches the scar on the back of her neck.

 _A lot of work_.

When she was a highschool freshman she got into the lacrosse team. Lacrosse was fun. Sometimes she played third or second home, sometimes left attack wing, sometimes she was all about the defense. She was versatile and fast, and her team loved her. Naturally, their rivals hated her. Sure, she got her ass whipped more times that she could count but that's how she met Cassie. Cassie was the first girl she ever kissed. She still thought about her. She was a very sweet girl. Except that time when she knocked Dana unconscious with her Crosse for flirting with some boy.

When she woke up in the hospital bed, Sesame Street was on. Bobby was sitting on the chair next to the bed with her baby sister Anna on his lap. They're watching the TV in silence. Her mom was probably outside having a smoke, even if she claimed she didn't smoke anymore. In that moment of both strange confusion and sharp awareness, the epiphany happened: first, Bert and Ernie were totally gay; and second, she had a very real and dangerous effect on people.

_Yes, she did._

“You don't think I can handle it?”

“I think you can do whatever you want, Dana. I just don't want you to feel like you _have to handle_ everything that's coming your way.”

“Well, coming out does that to you.” She looks at Bobby with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Bobby smiles back.

“Whatever you need, Dana, you can tell me.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Dana changes the station again.

“I guess I owe your uncle twenty bucks.” Bobby sighs.

“If it makes you feel better, he owns me fifty for telling you myself, another fifty for telling you before mom and if you joke about it in Thanksgiving that would be another fifty in my pocket. I could buy a really nice Christmas gifts with that money, Bobby. Think about it.”

Bobby laughs out loud and shakes his head. Of course Dana would bet bigger.

“That sounds like a good plan, kid. I could use another shirt and a new travel mug."


	19. Dick under the Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Young Dana had an illegal business and her parents are OK with it? The answer is yes.

Dana is staying in a beautiful renovated, red brick, two-story house in West Loop. I was planning on driving, but Dee insisted that I flight here, so I obliged. Since the so called ‘October fight’, she has been trying to be more open with me. After Thanksgiving at Rowena's, she invited me to the company Christmas party and I said yes, even though I’m not a huge fan of parties. As soon as I get out of the taxi, I see her standing on the porch in her sleepers. She waves at me, all excited. This is the first time I visit her in Chicago. I smile big and walk with my carry on to meet her.

“How was the trip?” She hugs me burying her face in my chest.

“Good, I even took a nap,” I reply kissing the top of her head. She looks up and gives me a proper hello kiss.

“C’mon in, it’s fucking cold,” she leads the way. The house is beautiful on the inside as well. Unlike the modern style and minimalistic decoration of the Kansas house, or lack of thereof, this house has a more traditional style and eclectic decoration.

“This place is really nice,” I take my boots off and as she takes my coat and hands me a pair of slippers my size. Dana is a selective germ freak. “How did you find it?” I follow her to the kitchen.

“Roman Enterprises was part of the West and South Loop revival projects, so, I bought it from the company a few years back, when it was cheaper,” she explains casually. “Do you want a beer and a sandwich?” She was having one.

“Wait, you own this place?” One other thing she never mentioned.

“Yeah. Turkey sandwich?” She asks again handing me a beer from the fridge. I nod. She takes some containers from the fridge.

“Dee, are you rich?” I ask holding the beer. She looks at me and then hand me a beer opener.

“I don’t think so,” she takes a baguette from a paper bag and slices it by half.

“How much do you make a year?” She takes a nice Dijon mustard and spread it on the bread.

“Why do you want to know?” She cuts slices of tomato and arrange them neatly along one side. Then she arranges baby greens on the other side. 

“I’m just curious." I watch her put some olive oil, salt and pepper on the tomatoes and the greens.

“Of course,” she says taking the turkey shreds out of the container to put them on top of the greens. The turkey has some kind of gravy, smells really nice. She sprinkles the turkey with shredded cheese and then puts the one half on top of the other. She cuts the baguette in four pieces. She takes two plates and puts two pieces in each. Then she goes to the pantry and comes back with a jar of pickles. She gives me the jar and I open the lid and give it back. She takes one out of the jar with a fork and puts it next to the two pieces of sandwich and hands it to me. “More than you do, for sure,” she takes another pickle out, takes a bite and places it on her plate. She takes a sip of beer and then a big bite of her sandwich. “I hope that’s not an issue for you,” she says with her mouth full. I shake my head and take a bite too. It’s really good. “Cool, because that’s why I wanted to arrange our New Year's getaway."

"This is really good!" I wash down the sandwich with a little beer. “And no, it’s not an issue as long I pay half of everything,” I take a bite of the pickle. “This is even better,” I chime.

“Ellen made it,” she sips her beer. Yes, we talked about her trip to Poughkeepsie. Although she didn’t say much about Ellen’s life and I didn’t push, I still considered it progress. We catch up with the details of the days we’ve been apart. After we finished, she gives me a tour around the house, taking her time to tell me how it used to look and the challenges of the make-over. She goes over every little detail, and I can tell she likes this house better than the one in Kansas.

“You really love this house, it’s like your little baby,” I tease her.

“Well, yeah. But this was a renovation project and Kansas was a design project, that's why they have different vibes. I also lived here longer, so there is more history to it,” she smiles at me warmly. “But the one in Kansas has you in it, so that’s my favorite now,” I lean down to kiss her.

“That’s one of the nicest thing you ever said to me,” I chuckle. “And you didn’t ruin it as usual,” I laugh at loud now.

She nudges me and suggests we get ready for the party. So she shows me the last room of the house, the master bathroom and it seems that Dee really enjoys bathrooms, because this is the only room in the house where you can really see the splurged of money. It’s still early thou, so we have time to fool around in giant shower.

 

 

Sometimes I could swear Dana's obsession with my hair is pretty close to a fetish. She insisted in washing my hair and she used all these products that smell amazing. When we finally got out of the shower, she offered to shave me. I was going to do so anyways, so I said yes. By the look in her eyes, I should have known. She grabbed the armchair from the corner and brought it closer to the sink. Then, she got a clean towel from the linen closet and got the water running in one of the double sinks. She gestured me to sit down.

“What are you doing?”

“You need a hot towel first,” she says and hands me the towel after squeezing the excess of water.

“No, I don’t." I don’t like where this is going.

“Sam, sit down, lay back, and shut up,” she smiles her _do as I say or face my wrath_ smile. Of course, I do as she says. She takes a small box out from one of the drawers and put it on the counter. She goes through the content and takes out a little bottle. She puts some drops on the palm of her hand and then rubs them together. She gets behind me.

“Lean back,” she orders me and I obey. She runs her palms over my jaw and neck. Then she takes the hot towel and places it over my face and presses it to my face, just like a barber would. “Steam is better, but we had a nice shower, so, I think we'll be OK.” The towel is over my mouth, so I don’t feel like commenting. The armchair is comfortable, so I relax and try to understand what Dana is doing. She took her time to put some music. Chet Baker and Bill Evans. After sometime, she comes back to take the towel off my face and places it around my shoulder. She gets a face brush and soap and starts gently brushing me with it.

“Where did you even get this stuff?” She's doing that thing when she’s laser focus and gives you no context whatsoever.

“Boston. Now, shut up and enjoy the ride, Sammy,” she puts away the brush and the soap. And she comes back with a straight razor. I tense. She raises her brow. I hesitate. She tilts her head to the side. I stare at her. She squints. I sigh and lean back. She stands behind me again and kisses the tip of my nose. And then she begins. She works with calm and calculated short moves. She goes from one side to the chin to the other side, and then the upper lip. The razor is sharp, her touch is gentle, and it’s done. She pads my face with a cold towel. Then she gets back with some product and after a moment, she cleans me with the towel.

“How do you feel? Does it burn?” She asks me.

 “No, not at all, I feel great.” I enjoyed the whole ride. Maybe too much.

“You’re such a weirdo,” she scolds me. “Everything gets you hard,” she gives me another kiss in the nose.

“No, everything _you_ do gets me hard, there’s a difference.” I sit up straight. She already put the box away.

“Well, I would love to have you in my mouth right now, but I think I want you to wait. In the meantime, please dry my hair.” She hands me the hairdryer and gestures me to move away from the armchair. This is my time to mess with her hair, so I take full advantage of it.

 

 

 

 

 

“I know we agree on the grey suit and white shirt, but I changed my dress. So I went out and got you something so we would maaa---fucking shoot me right now that sounded so lame,” she takes a cloth garment bag from the closet and places it on top of the bed. She unzips the bag and takes out a three pieces black suit. I stare.

“You don’t like it,” she says with a frown.

It looks really expensive.

“No, it’s just that this is way out of my comfort zone,” I managed to say.

“You mean is not a hundred layers of plaid,” she deadpans. I don’t find it amusing but I noticed she doesn’t either. And it hits me: she is really nervous, and I’m not sure why.

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask her still in my underwear and t-shirt.

“There’s gonna be a lot of people,” she’s fidgets with her silky bathrobe.

“Are you afraid I’ll stand out like a sore thumb?” I try to sound more cheerful than I feel.

“Of course you’ll stand out; you’re like a fucking gorgeous Sequoia. It’s not that. I don’t go to parties. Especially work related parties. I’m afraid I’ll make a scene, fuck up with the lights or something. Or worse,” she’s really preoccupied. “I only took a beer, and I usually need to drink a little more in order to be cool, especially with you around. Fuck, I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I just don’t want to lose my shit. I’ll just take a precautionary Xanax and keep my meds with me,” she’s freaking out a little bit.

“Hey, Dee, look at me,” I put my hands on her shoulders and give it a squeeze. “It’s gonna be fine. Let’s get dress. And if you feel things are getting funky, just say the word and we’ll get the hell out of there,” I try not to make a big deal about it but I know it’s a big deal. She nods.

"Funky town's the word, got it."

It turns out she also got me a black shirt and a blue bow tie. I can smell the money pouring out of every fiber, but I smile, thank her, and get dress. Of course, everything fits me perfectly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Lisa invited me to her Christmas party, wanna go?” Dana asks her cousin after dinner.

“Who’s Lisa?” He asks not taking his eyes away from the TV.

“A friend,” she answers.

“Do you shag all your friends?” He tries to be clever.

“No, just Lisa. So? You wanna tag along?” Of course he’s not going to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Is it a high school party?” He stalls.

“Mostly seniors and college kids visiting for the Holidays. Wanna go?” She repeats herself.

“I don't know,” Gavin is playing hard to get.

“Just go to the party, Gavin,” Fergus yells from the dinner room.

“It's settled then. Chicks dig Brits, man. You're in for a treat. We're leaving in a hour or so." She winks at him and throws her dashing smile right at his face. "Anna-banana! It's time to go to bed!” She yells and Anna comes running to the couch and throws herself over Dana.

“Here's my Fairy Queen!” Dana overreacts, vows big time and Anna loses it.

“What are we doing tonight?” Anna is jumping with excitement.

“Well, Your Majesty, I propose we get this party going at the Magical Purple Waterfalls with all those hot fairies and goblins freaks!" Dana takes her little sister in her arms and dances with her around the living room. Anna laughs hysterically. “To the Waterfalls, My Lady!” Dana yells and puts her sister down, who runs upstairs giggling like crazy.

“We don't really have Magical Purple Waterfalls.” Dana deadpans. “I don't want you to get the idea we're are some extravagant weirdos or whatever,” she makes a funny face and walks upstairs. “We have plenty of fairies, though.” Her laughter got lost somewhere on the way up.

Gavin has to admit, if only to himself, she's bloody charming. What a drag.

 

 

An hour later, Dana comes back down wearing red flats, dark jeans, a white shirt and a red sweater. She's even wearing a black bow tie. Her hair is braided around her head in a rich pattern.

Gavin gapes at her. “You look like a nerd,” he manages to say.

“I was aiming for Catholic School but I'll take what I can get. Dude, you look like you did an hour ago. You need to fix that, buddy. It ain't cool.” Dana walks back to the kitchen where Fergus and Rowena are playing poker as Bobby gets the washing machine going. Dana walks up to him.

“Hey Bobby, Anna is asleep upstairs. We took a shower before bed, so that's done. Can you drive us to Lisa's house? Gavin is coming too,” Dana explains handing out some bowls and plates as she spoke.

“Thanks, hon. Why don't you take the truck? You'll have to be the designated driver, you OK with that?”

“Of course.” Dana kisses him on the cheek. “Thanks, Bobby. Oy! MacLeod’s! The offspring is leaving the nest for tonight. Don't worry, I'll keep it clean and bring him with all his boy bits.”

“Oh dear, what the hell are you wearing?” Rowena asks looking at her daughter with a frown. “You look like you sing in Sunday Service.”

“Yes, but which one, mom?” Dana turns in her heels.

“Methodist?” Rowena guess. Dana shakes her head.

“Does your character have a name?” Fergus asks.

“Hi, I'm Cathy, I'm from the Catering Service.” Dana speaks with an impossible sweet and fragile voice.

“Catholic,” Fergus replies in a beat.

“He gets it.” They high five.

“Cathy the Catholic?” Rowena laughs out loud.

“I enjoy alliterations, sue me. We're leaving!”

Dana kisses her mother and then her uncle. They keep up the mandatory bickering for a minute before they actually leave. Gavin stood and nodded before he followed her cousin through the back of the house.

“Get your coat, silly,” Dana scolded as she gets her coat out of the closet and grabs a nice backpack.

 

They make their way to the garage, get in the truck and wait for the inside to warm up.

“What's all that?” Gavin asks looking to the back seat.

“Well, Gavin, I consider myself a _Renaissance_  woman. And t _hat_ \---she points to the containers on the back--- is one of my special projects. You'll see.”

 

It turned out her cousin stashed parties with an array of products, such as, but not limited to, vegan Jell-O shots, marijuana edibles, and Holiday specials, which in this particular case, was the homemade eggnog. She told him on the way to the party that she was saving to buy a car.

“I thought your dad had money,” Gavin points out.

“Bobby? I mean, I guess he could arrange something. But I want to buy _my own_ car. And I have to save for college, so, I've been working since sophomore year.”

“I'm not talking about Bobby, I meant your _real_ father.”

Gavin notices how Dana stiffs a little bit and tightens her grip around the steering wheel.

“Bobby is my real dad, as far as anyone is concerned.” She keeps her eyes on the road, but Gavin knows he hit a nerve. She stops the car. “I know you meant Arthur, my dad.”

“Why are we stopping?” Gavin feared for a split second her cousin would kick him out of the car. But she gestures the STOP sign with her index finger and turns on the music. She goes through the stations and sets on country. They keep moving and Dana doesn't seem to mind him at all. She sings along in some parts. Gavin guess she's finally done with the small talk and the courtesy shenanigans.

Dana parked the truck on the back of the house where the party was taking place. They had cleared a spot for her. They were _waiting_ for her. When they got out, a gorgeous brunette came running down and threw herself into Dana arms. Dana hugs her back and kiss her lightly on the cheek. Either children or teens, chicks dig Dana. Gavin had to bite his tongue.

“Lisa, this is my cousin Gavin. Gavin, this is my beautiful girlfriend, Lisa,” they share a nod and a smile and leave it at that. “Lisa is also the prideful host of this lovely gathering. Did you clear the kitchen for me, honey?”

“Yes, it's all set, babe,” Lisa chimes and they start unloading the plastic containers from the truck.

 

They settled in the kitchen, and Dana begins to explain how the products need to be arranged. She's using that impossible voice, and Lisa can't stop giggling.

“I need the edible box right here with me. Gavin, you can manage the booze section over the counter. This is important, we reuse everything here, so I need you to hand the jars with the eggnog and reminds them to bring it back to the kitchen once they're done. They get a cookie if they are nice. Also, no lids. You take the lids and put them back in the container. It's how we keep track of the stock. These are the ‘Blends’, red cap is vodka base, black cap is rum, white cap is gin, blue cap is the Secret Blend. Same as the jars, you take the lids and ask them to return them. Liz, honey, I have your vegan snack box right here. And this is the not-vegan. The boxes are labeled with the ingredients and price of the content. If you need change, I have plenty right here. Keep the money in the box. If you have questions, ask me, I don't mind. Remember, it's Cathy for the night.” Dana looks at Gavin and winks. She steps closer to Lisa and kisses her deep and wet. Gavin feels embarrassed and turned on at the same time.

“Merry Christmas, honey,” she whispers in her ear.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Lisa replies and takes a moment to put some lip gloss. Then she opens the kitchen door which makes people cheer.

Dana greets everyone with a smile. This Cathy persona is a strange mixture of shyness and backbone. Gavin doesn't have time to listen how Cathy explains the edible options to the customers, because he has people shoving money at his face. Of course, he forgets about the lids, but people seem to know the drill so they hand the lids themselves. After the first dozen customers, Gavin starts to get a hold of the situation. He glances over to her cousin.

“Hey, Cathy, what do you have for me tonight?”

“Did you try the chocolate and salted caramel bomb? It's a new recipe. I made the salted caramel myself. It kicks in an hour, so you have to be patient. Did you have a good dinner tonight? How much did you drink?”

Cathy asks a lot of questions before she recommends an edible. And she has little stamps, like kids stamps, and she uses them on the buyer's hand.

“She likes to keep track of what everyone eats. The color of the stamps means the size of the intake and she decides how much to sell to everyone, that's why she asks so many questions,” Lisa explains. “She has everything figured out.” He guesses she does.

Gavin is enjoying himself. He managed to small talked with some of the girls and the guys that came to him for alcohol. When some of them asked him how did he know Cathy, he said Church. Everyone seem to enjoy the eggnog and the Secret Blend it's buyers’ favorite choice. When Lisa finished the snacks, she came over to help him.

“We have to wrap it up, people! You know the drill!” She yells over the crowd and a new wave of people arrives. When they sell up to the last bottle, they both start to clean up. Cathy keeps talking and managing people over her edible collection of delights. The music keeps playing in the background and everyone seems to be having fun.

“Kitty-Kat! What's up, girl? I missed you!” A beautiful black girl with dreadlocks runs over to meet Dana.

“Jules!” Cathy smiles and hugs her. “Gosh, you look amazing. How are you doing? How's Vassar?”

“It's pretty cool, actually. I'm preparing to get into one of the acapella groups, so I'm pretty excited. And I'm totally crushing this party, I heard you were coming and I had to be here. I don't even know who's hosting this.”

“Well, that would be Lisa. Hey, honey, this is Juliet. Jules, this is Lisa. And that's my cousin Gavin. He's Fergus’ son.”

“Oh, hey! Nice to meet you, guys. Lisa, I was just telling your girl I'm totally crushing your party!”

“No worries! It's was an open house kinda thing.”

“I heard my little brother talking about the party and when your name came up, I had to come and see what you have.”

“Well, it's your lucky night. I'm meeting some clients later so I arrange a sample packet. Here, let me show you.”

 

It turned out Lisa was pretty cool and Gavin talked to her most of the time Cathy conducted her business. The so called clients were just other kids thinking about throwing a party and they were interested in having Cathy over with her goods. Almost three hours after they arrived, they sold almost everything they brought. Dana took the box of money back to the truck and Lisa and Gavin packed as much as possible. Lisa told him they could do that later. Cathy returned with a her bag pack and asked Lisa if she could change somewhere. Cathy went upstairs and Dana came back down. The braid was gone, so her hair look really big and wavy, she was wearing an old ACDC black T-shirt and black boots. She even walked different.

“Thank you so much for your help, guys. I'll run the numbers later. Now, let's join this party!” Dana plasters a big kiss on Lisa. “Did you guys eat something?” She asks Lisa and Gavin.

“I took a chocolate bomb when we were wrapping up. And I left some Blue for ourselves.” Lisa opens the fridge and hands one to Dana.

“I'm driving. Gavin can have mine. You ate something, Gav?” Dana looks at him.

“You mean edibles? No, I didn't.”

“You want one? The chocolate bombs are pretty cool. Babe, you have one to spear?”

“Of course,” Lisa says and takes a small box out of the back of the fridge.

“One will do the trick, Gav. And you can have as many Blue Blend as you can handle.”

 

Gavin is enjoying himself. This party is great. He was afraid that the only reason her cousin asked him to come was so she could have an extra pair of hands to run her very illegal business in the kitchen. He thought that after three hours of work, the party would be over. But no, the party was just getting started. Everyone was high or drunk or both. He was feeling marvelous. The Blue Blend was fantastic. The chocolate bomb was delicious ---he even sneaked for a second and a third one. The music was really good. Everyone was having a good time.

“Are you having fun?” Dana asks him when they run into each other in the way to the bathroom.

“Fantastic!” He almost screamed.

“I'm glad, buddy. How many Blues did you have?”

“This is my third , I think.”

“OK. I want you to drink water when you are done with this one. OK? You need to hydrate to keep the party going. You hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you.” Gavin is too hype to bother. “Can you introduce me to one of your friends?”

“A lady friend or a male friend?” Dana asks.

“Lady friend. I want to kiss somebody, I'm so horny.” Dana laughs out loud.

“Filters are off, I see,” she punches him on the shoulder. “I'll be your wingman, don't worry. Just tell me who do you like, and I'll see what I can do.”

They start walking around the house, going from room to room. At one point, Gavin sees this beautiful petite redhead and nudges Dana.

“Ewww, she looks like my mom!” She says and keeps walking. Dana rejects the next three suggestions.

“You're an awful wing man,” Gavin says after the first tour. They made a stop on the little hallway next to the downstairs bathroom. He's panting and all sweaty.

“They were not what you need tonight; you have to trust me on this one.” Dana rinses a random cup, gets water from the bathroom and hands it to him.

“You're so full of shit, Dana.” Gavin drinks in auto pilot and realized he was really thirsty.

“Never said otherwise.” She leans against the wall.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because…”

Dana frowns at him and he feels he's seeing her for the first time. Really _sees_ her. Gavin takes a deep breath and leans forward.

“Do you know the _effect_ you have on people?”

Dana shrugs. Gavin takes a step closer.

“Do you have _any_ idea how _hard_ it is to be around you? To live around your orbit? You, you have this _pull_ , like gravity _…_ ” Gavin takes another step closer and leans even closer, cornering her against the wall. Dana expression goes blank. “You are like… like one of those paintings everyone worships. You have that halo of mystery, and voluptuousness, and, and beauty…” Gavin swallowed hard and the light flickered. “But I see you. I see the cracks and the emptiness in your eyes. You're like a hollow shell, an empty vessel. You, you think you can fool everyone, but I'm onto you, Dana. I know the kind of freak you really are.” Gavin stands up straight and stares at her coldly, still all over her personal space.

And Dana bursts into laughter. She laughs so hard, people turn around and peek through the door. She keeps laughing until she's gasping for air. And Gavin's anger bubbles up, like hot lava. And then, she shakes her head dismissively and says the most satisfying and unappealable two words in the English language:

“Fuck you, Gavin,” and heads out.

Unfortunately, Gavin’s not done. He grabs her by the elbow and pulls her back. Big mistake. With a swift move, the tables suddenly are turned. Now, it's Dana the one shoving Gavin against the wall. She's holding him down with her right arm firmly pushed against his collar bone and her left hand tight around his neck.

And now Gavin is really fucked.

The look in her eyes is viciously cold.

And Gavin pants got a little bit tighter around the southern region.

“You fuck with me, _boy_ , and we'll fuck you righ'back with a cherry on top.” Dana’s voice has an unnatural drawl to it. She gets closer and inhales deep. She's picking his scent, just like a hound would. She keeps her hand tight on his neck and lowers her right to cup Gavin's half hard dick over his jeans. “You touch us again, I'll dispense Lil' Gavin here the same treatment I gave that big ol’ viper back at Grandma's house," he lets out a pathetic whine. "Know what we're talkin about, _doncha_?" Dana huffs and slowly backs off. Now, Gavin's gasping for air and rubbing his neck. It's definitely going to leave a mark. They stand facing each other for a beat and the little hallway gets even smaller. Dana's presence swallows all the light around them.

And then, he remembers. Gavin remembers the snake and he can feel the vomit coming up. He barely makes it to the bathroom.

 

 

 

“Hey kiddo,” Bobby walks into the kitchen in his pajamas and finds Dana sitting on the table, staring at her cup of tea. He stops for a second. “Dana?” He calls her name. She blinks and turns around to meet his gaze.

“Hey, Bobby. Did I wake you?” She sounds a little off.

“You OK, honey?” He goes to the sink and gets himself a glass of water. He comes back and sits across from her.

“It was a long night, that's all.”

Bobby slides his hand over the table and holds the cup of tea. It's cold.

“I know you really enjoy tea, but I'm guessing this conversation will be better over a beer, what do you say?”

“Sure, Bobby.”

He stands up and gets two beers out of the fridge and sits back down. He hands out one to Dana and watches as she takes a good gulp. He mimics and waits for her to speak. It's a long minute, but Bobby doesn't mind.

“Gavin got sick. He puke all over the bathroom back at Lisa's. I had to clean up his mess and wait for him to feel better before we could ride back here. I didn't want him to throw up in the car.”

“Is he alright now?”

“He’ll sleep it off. I made him take a shower before sending him to bed. I throw his clothes into the washer. I was waiting for the dryer, but I guess I must have spaced out. Did I wake you?”

“I heard you coming in. Didn't hear you coming up, so I thought maybe you fell asleep on the couch.”

“I tried to be quiet, sorry.”

“It's OK, honey. Did Gavin have too much to drink?”

“Yes, but I think he stole some chocolate edibles. I explained him one is good enough, but he's such a bad listener.”

“You know he's old enough to make his own decisions, right? He's older than you, he should know better.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What else happened?”

Dana starts playing with the label on the bottle.

“C'mon, spill the beans.”

“You have to promise me you won't tell Fergus.”

“I can't promise you that but I promise discretion.”

Dana keeps playing with the label. She's deliberately not making eye contact. Bobby waits, she inhales and exhales deeply.

“He… He said some stuff, and I know he was pretty fucked up, so maybe it was the booze and the weed talking, but he was mean, Bobby, he's mean to me. He likes to poke me and see if I bleed. And that's just wrong, you know?”

Bobby scratches his beard.

“It is wrong. I mean, I know he's going through a lot of stress lately. Your uncle told us he drop out of college and moved back with his mother. Fergus offered him to move here, and go to college or maybe get job, but he didn't want to...”

“I know. That's why I invited him to the party, so he could catch a break, have a good time. And for a moment, I thought we were in the same page, he even talked to Lisa and some other people. He even danced, awkwardly and really uncoordinated, sure, but at least he moved, right? And then he went nasty in a heartbeat…”

“Well, Gavin is a weird kid. He has poor social skills, in case you didn't notice. I don't know what's going on with him. I know his dad doesn't know what's going on with him. I don't think Gavin knows either. What did he do?”

“Nothing.”

“Wanna try that again?”

Dana sighs and takes another swing at the beer.

“Hell, that can't be good.”

“Look, I'm going to tell you, OK? I already took care of it, so _please,_ don't freak out or something.”

“Already too late for that , so c'mon…”

“I think he thought he could intimidate me by cornering me.”

It was time for Bobby to inhale and exhale deeply.

“Did he put his hands on you, Dana?” Bobby could feel the bile in the back of his throat.

“No, Bobby, he didn't. I mean, after he said I was a freak and I told him to fuck off, he tried to grab me but I did what that thing you taught me, you know, the _move_ , and I pushed him against the wall and choked him."

“You did?” Bobby sounds oddly proud.

“Yeah, I told him if he ever touched us again I would…” Dana trails off with a frown.

“Honey?” Bobby calls with cautious.

“I said I'll cut his dick off.”

“You what now?”

“I said I'll cut his dick off.” Dana leans over the table and continues with a whisper. “And he was---he _said_  I had this _effect_ on people and that I didn't know how hard it was to live around me. And, and, I don't understand what the hell he wants from me, you know? It's fucked up either way. But Bobby, and I'm not saying it's my fault, because I know it's not, but I feel like, like, in some point, he's right. I know there's _something_ in me, something dark, that has this _call_ to, to wake up the darkness in people. Like a resonance of some sorts. 'Cause, ‘cause I've seen it before. I've seen that look of… And _something_ inside me feeds on that, prays on that…” Dana's chin quivers. “Sometimes I feel like if I were to let go, all the darkness in the world would find me… you know?”

Bobby leaned back in his chair. He's going to need more than a beer.

“I know, honey, I know. Hell, I've seen it too. But I also know there's good in you. A lot of good. I've seen you pulling some pretty cool stuff around here. So you have to feed the good part. As for Gavin, I'll have to sleep on it, 'cause right now I want to punch him into pulp.”

“I know, I know. But, he wasn't all there. I know it sounds awful, and I'm not defending him. It's just, I don't know… I don't think he meant to hurt me.”

“I don't care what he meant, what he did, it ain't right. He's not walking out of this, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“C'mere,” he stands up and opens his arms. Dana walks into the embrace and allows herself to be comfort by her dad.

“I know I don't say this enough, Bobby. But I love you. You're a great dad to Anna and to me.” She speaks with her head resting on Bobby's shoulder.

“I love you too, Dana. We might not be blood, but we are family. And I'm proud of you. You're a good kid.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

After I get dressed I brush my teeth carefully and go downstairs to wait for her. I turn the TV on but then I decide to snoop around. Dana has an impressive vinyl collection. Now I know Arthur was the jazz enthusiast, and seems she has all of his records. I know she enjoys other genres, like rock, especially the classic, but I suspect it was a much later acquired taste. There are very few pictures in the house and they are scattered. In the living room, next to the record player, I find a picture of Dana holding a baby with a younger version of Rowena and Bobby by her side. That must be her baby Anna. On the mantle above the fireplace I find a beautiful picture of a tall guy in a hat, a cute blonde girl next to a woman who looks like her mother and a young man with a mullet, oh my god.  They are all laughing and only the girl is looking right at the camera. It’s a really good spontaneous picture and it was carefully framed. In one of the bookcases in her office, I found another picture. There is a girl in a big winter coat, a woolen hat and a big scarf. She is smiling from the eyes, which is the only portion of the face that you can actually see. She’s leaning against a really nice car. Oh, that must be Dana's GT. Shit, that’s Dana. She looks... Different. Shit. Really different. Lighter, if that's possible. I don't think I would have recognized her on the street.

I hear her calling my name from upstairs. I go back to the room.

“Sam? I need help with my dress.” I walk in and I spot her sitting on the corner of the bed. Dana is wearing a long sleeved, high collar, tight black dress that goes down up to her knees. She’s wearing a dark pattern tights and she sliding into black pumps. She looks up at me, stands up and turns around. The dress has shimmering black embroidery. I know nothing about fashion but I really don’t need to in order to know she looks amazing. Dana got her hair up with some really nice jeweled pins. She looks back at me. I’m gaping.

“Sam?” She can’t really fight the smile. “Please don’t objectify me and button me up, would you?”

I clear my throat and do as she says. I begin working on the tiny buttons on her back and I notice the embroidery is actually black but the dressed is deep blue. I know blue is her favorite color. Her dress matches my bow tie. She turns around and now our height difference is not as significant as usual.

“Babe, you look so hot,” she says smiling with furious red lipstick lips.

“You look…,” I’m lost for words. She chuckles and gives me a little peck on the lips.

“Let’s do this shit!" She says as anticlimactic as usual.

 

 

When we go downstairs, I realize my coat ruins our outfit mojo.

“I picked the wrong coat,” I declare with regret.

“It’s OK,” she says with a shrug. She takes a fancy white coat out of the closet.

“No, it’s not. I’m ruining the whole thing,” I feel embarrassed. She looks at me clearly amused.

“Well, I guess I could…" She trails off.

“What?” I’m thinking not wearing a coat at all.

“Well, I have some… clothes… from my dad. Is that too weird? It’s too weird.”

“No, no, do you think it will fit me?” I’m hopeful.

“I’ll get them and you can try it on.” She walks up the stairs again.

 

 

 

_This is weird. It’s definitely weird. I’ve shouldn’t had offer. Shit. I don’t think Dad would like it._

I froze.

I see Dad sitting on the bed.

_I don't mind._

I blink.

_Dad?_

Dad’s there.

_You look dazzling, jellybean._

I blink.

Dad's gone.

 

 

 

Dana comes down with a long blue wool coat and a puzzled expression on her face. She hands me the coat with barely any eye contact. I try it on. It’s a little tight on the shoulders but other than that it’s good.

“Is this too weird for you? Because I can wear mine,” I assure her. She shakes her head.

“It’s cool. Let’s get over to Charlie’s,” says putting her phone in the coat’s pockets.

“Should we call a cab?” I check I have my phone with me.

“Nah, we can walk there,” she takes her cigarette case, a silver pill box, and her lipstick and puts them in different pockets.

“You are not taking a purse?” I find it a little suspicious.

“No, I tend to lose my purses,” she explains. We are ready to go. She locks the door, and immediately lights up a cigarette.

We go down the three steps down the porch and we make a right down the sidewalk. I reach for her hand. We should wear more clothes, it’s freezing.

“Are you sure you can walk on those heels?” I ask her after we walk down the first house.

“One, yes. Two, we’re here,” she points out to the second house.

“You are neighbors?” I find it very peculiar.

“Told you, Roman Enterprises,” we walk up the stairs to the porch and she rings the bell. All the houses are very similar if not exactly the same.

“Good evening, bitches,” a redheaded girl in a fancy jumpsuit with a geometrical and very colorful pattern greets us as she opens up the doors. “Please come in, not you Ketch. Wow, you’re really tall! I'm Charlie, by the way,” she says assessing me.

“Hi Charlie, nice to meet you. I'm Sam,” I release Dana’s hand in order to shake hers.

“I heard _so_ much about you, nice to finally meet you in real life," she smiles broadly and gestures me inside. “You can come in, Sam. Your girlfriend has to finish her cancer stick if she wants to come in.”

“Blow me, Bradbury,” Dana barks from the porch.

“Bite me, Ketch,” Charlie closes the door on her face with a huff and a wicked smug. “Can I offer you something to drink as wE WAIT FOR DOROTHY TO GET READY!?” She yells at the stairs cases. Then she looks at me and smiles. “Women, right?” She shakes her head and we head to the kitchen. The layout is pretty much the same as Dana’s but the vibe is different. Charlie is having a beer.

“You want one?” She offers me.

“No, thank you, I’m OK. I already had one." Charlie shrugs.

“So, how did you two meet?” She jumps right in and I'm pretty sure it's a tricky question. She wants to compare notes.

“I went to buy tea at Rowena’s shop and Dee was there,” that’s the PG 13 version.

“Dee?” Charlie squint at me.

“Dana?”

“Oh, right. I forget she runs by many names,” Charlie lean against the kitchen sink. “So, are you special like her?” She adds after a sip of her beer.

“Special?” Another trick question.

“Yes, special,” Charlie raises her eyebrows.

“She means smart,” Dana adds behind me. Fucking ninja. “And yes, Sam's really smart. Great memory, too. He just remembers everything. He should have been a lawyer,” Dana gets by my side and puts her arms around my waist. She's feeling defensive, I can tell. I put my arm around her shoulder and kiss her temple. She knows Law was a real option for me.

“You a cop though, right?” Charlie asks looking at Dana.

“Yes, back at Lawrence, Kansas,” I keep Dee closer.

“You two look _adorable_ , like…,” Charlie makes a mind-blowing gesture. “I've been trying to get Dana to these parties for years! Dick really likes to spend big money and the open bar it's insane. And it's the only time you'll see all of us this pumped,” she smiles warmly.

“Ok, I'm ready!” I assume that's Dorothy coming down the stairs.

“Hon, come and say hello to Sam!” Charlie calls.

“Hi! Sorry I kept you waiting, I'm---WOW you tall!” Dorothy comes down the hallway and stops to assess us both. “I'm Dorothy, nice to meet you Sam! Ketch you look nice. You both look so neat!” Dorothy shakes my hand.

“Hi Dorothy, nice to meet you,” I greet her.

“Dodo, you look sharp,” Dana says kissing her cheek. Dorothy is wearing a vintage black and white wavy dress.

“The only time of the year, darling,” she gestures her outfit and her heels.

“Ok, let's go then. Grab your coat and I'll get the car. Meet you at the front,” Charlie instructs us. She picks her coat from a chair and exits through the back door. We follow Dorothy down the hallway and back to the front door. She takes her coat from the closet and I let go of Dana to help her get with it.

“Thanks, Sam,” she says with a grin. “So nice to finally meet you, we heard so much about you.”

 

 

 

“I thought we agreed on the Three Musketeers,” Charlie says.

“The French are full of shit and Duma’s a drama queen,” Gabriel points out.

“No more than C.S. Lewis,” Charlie fights back.

“Hey, don’t bring Jack into this,” Dana sounds defensive.

“You’re English, your opinion doesn’t count,” Gabriel waves his hand dismissively.

“He was born in Ireland,” Dana rolls her eyes.

“Besides, I’m not endorsing anything with a closet involved. We should be The Three Faces of Eve: Charlie you are Eve White, Ketch is Jane and, naturally, I’m Eve Black.”

“Are you out of your mind? Ketch can’t be Jane!" Charlie laughs.

“I'm so NOT Jane,” Dana shakes her head.

“You’re the lesbian, Ketch is bisexual and I’m gay, most of the time. It makes perfect sense.”

“But we are not the same person; it doesn’t reflect the nature of our group. We need an analogy that conveys the dynamics of the cluster. That’s why my second choice was the Wizard of Oz. I am the brains, Ketch has the heart and you are a brave motherfucker. Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion.”

“But, those are the boring characters! I live in Kansas now so I should be Dorothy. You should be the Wizard and Gabriel is obviously the Wicked Witch of the West,” Dana explains.

“Thanks, hon, I appreciate that,” Gabriel grins obviously flattered. 

“You’re welcome. You look good in green,” Dana grins back.

“Oh, honey, I look good in every color,” Gabriel winks at me.

“I don’t wanna be the Wizard, he’s an asshole. And I already have a Dorothy in my life, I don’t need another one,” Charlie sighs, clearly frustrated.

“Then remind me why are we leaving Tolkien out of this?” Dana demands.

“Stop with the homeland authors, Ketch, it’s embarrassing,” Gabriel shakes his head.

“I hate you,” Dana scowls at him. “And Tolkien was British, I already explained you the difference.”

“Yes, we are not a Colony anymore, thank you very much,” Gabriel smiles sheepishly. “George Washington, darling, George Washington,” he whispers and raises his champagne glass.

“Guys, I think this got out of hands. And you haven’t really answer Sam’s question,” Dorothy interrupts them with a diplomatic yet stern tone.

“Sorry, what was the question?” Charlie asks me.

“Ummm… I was just curious about what you do,” I say. I was actually enjoying the discussion, but I get from Dorothy's expression that she is used to this kind of ranting and doesn’t find it amusing.

“Oh, yes, well, I’m a system analyst,” Charlie replies. “Gabe is Human Resources, or so he says,” she shrugs.

“Long story short, Ketch has an idea, I find the people, Charlie finds a way,” Gabriel explains. “Not in that order and it’s more a collaborative job. Oh! And Dick gives us the funding, of course,” he adds.

“We make him rich, so he kinda has to,” Charlie nods.

“Where is Dick anyways?” Gabriel looks around and then at Dana. She frowns.

“What?” She says.

“Like you don’t know,” Charlie squints at her and then turns to me. “Ketch and Dick are _so_ work husbands,” she laughs.

“Are they really?” I smile but I notice Dana tensed up.

“Hell yeah! And for the record —Gabriel raises his hand—I recruit her, so, _we_ —he gestures Dana and him— happened first,” he looks at Dana and raises his champagne glass again. “I was your first wife, don’t you forget,” he takes a swig of champagne. “You see, Sam, Ketch here, she… she drives _everyone_ crazy. Literally, everyone. She can get away with almost anything. She could shoot puppies and everyone would go _awww she's so cute holding a gun._ It's almost like magic, believe me, back in New York it happened all the fucking time, and lemme tell ya, I wouldn’t have put up with her insane obsession over Chet Baker otherwise,” I can’t help to laugh.

“Don’t bring Chet into this, Gabe, I won’t allow it,” Dana stands up straight.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about,” he leans closer to me and rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Speaking of the Devil,” Charlie says gesturing the entrance. The party is taking place in the building lobby but I wouldn’t describe it as a regular lobby. It’s massive. Marble floors, a huge light fixture, impressing art pieces and sculptures all over the place. There is a live band playing in the also impressive conference room adjacent to the lobby. Looks like the Met Gala more than a Christmas party at the office. Since we got here about an hour ago, Dana hasn’t introduced me to anyone but Gabriel. I haven’t met Dee, yet. However, everyone seems to know who she is, but they mostly greeted her with a smile, a head nod, a waving hand. Not much. I follow Charlie’s gaze and sure enough, Dick Roman is there. He looks like a shark. He’s looking around and then takes his phone out. There is an older man walking on his right and a young woman at his left.

Dana’s phone buzzes in my pocket.

“Babe, your phone,” I hand her the phone.

“See? It’s already happening,” Charlie says. Dana shoots her a mean look and picks up.

“Hey, Dee,” oh hell no. “Yes, we’re here, by the Leite’s,” she gestures the huge sculpture near us. _Dee_ is Dick fucking Roman. I hear Gabriel chuckle. Dana hangs up and gives me back the phone. OK, I’m not jealous. Maybe a little. I’m mostly confused. I see how Dick is walking directly towards us, in a straight line. Every one or two steps, he stops to greet someone. I realize he’s even more charismatic in person; he shakes hands, gives hugs, smiles, makes eye contact and nods, then he continues to the next person. Until he sees Dana and his face lights up. Oh. Oh. I see it now. I turn around and I find Dana staring at me. I smile at her but she doesn’t smile back. Her expression is something between blank and murderous. But I’m not sure if I’m the target.

“How are the Bronte Sisters doing tonight?” Dick says when he reach us. Gabriel almost choke on his drink, Charlie was lost in the reference, and Dana facepalmed. “Dorothy, you look lovely —he kisses her softly on the cheek— and you must be Sam Winchester” he turns to me and puts out his hand. I smiled, stretched his hand all the while trying to register Dana’s reaction. “How are you doing, Sam?” He asks me with a warm smile.

“I’m doing great, it’s a great party,” I try to sound cool.

“I’m glad,” he grins wider and then moves to greet Gabriel with a hug. Then he kisses Charlie as he kissed Dorothy, and then he kisses Dana on the cheek —who is very stiff and being socially awkward— and he holds her hand between his. He says something to her but I can’t make it. I also feel Gabriel is looking at her and back at me. He clearly finds this amusing.

“Hey Zach,” Charlie says and I turn around to see the man who had accompanied Dick a moment before.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man says with a small smile and shakes her hand. He looks tired. “Hi, Dorothy, how are you?” he gently shakes her hand as well.

“Hello, Zachariah, merry Christmas,” Dorothy smiles warmly too.

“Zach, this is Sam Winchester, Ketch’s boyfriend,” Gabriel steps forward and introduces me. Dick keeps talking to Dana.

“Oh, you are Sam? You’re _really_ tall. I’m Zachariah, legal department. Nice to meet you, I’m glad you came all the way here,” he shakes my hand more profusely.

“Nice to meet you too, and merry Christmas,” I try to smile as sincerely as possible but I catch Dana’s focusing on Dick and I’m suddenly deeply uncomfortable.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he adds and moves to shake Gabriel’s hand.

“How are you doing, you old hag?” Gabriel hugs him instead.

“Gabriel, please,” he says trying to shake him off. “I’m still mad at you over Monte Carlo.”

“C’mon, Zach! Don’t be a grumpy old chad!” He makes puppy eyes and it’s hilarious. Zachariah straightens his suit and shakes his head.

“I need a drink,” he says under his breath. “Richard, we need to get moving, you can catch up later,” he says to Dick. “Hello, Dana, you look beautiful tonight,” he says getting between them.

“Hey, Zach, how are you doing?” Dana smiles somewhat sadly and hugs him. Zachariah, unlike before with Gabriel, hugs her back although briefly.

“Merry Christmas, dear,” he says instead. “We’ll see you later, OK? Dick, let’s get moving.”

“Enjoy the party, guys. And Merry Christmas!” Dick flashes another winning smile and keeps walking. He casts a quick glace over to Dana once, and then he’s gone.

“Well, I think it’s time for a refilled,” Gabriel chimes.

“Yes, let’s get wasted, dude!” Charlie jumps in her feet which gains her a bitch face from Dorothy. “Don’t worry honey, Sam is the designated driver tonight,” she adds immediately. “Right, Sam?” She looks for my support.

“Yes, I’m driving us back so you go and get wasted,” I wave them off.

“Maybe we should date him too,” Gabriel says to Charlie as he grabs her arm and leads the way to the open bar. “Our children would be tall and have beautiful hair,” I can hear him as they are gone too.

I look at Dana and she looks deeply uncomfortable. I walk towards her, take her hand and begin walking towards the exit.

“Wait,” she says but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“I think you need a smoke break,” I look at her and smile. She nods and follows me.

 

 

“There is nothing going on between Richard and me. Charlie and Gabe just like to fuck around with me, that’s all,” she says as soon as we make it to an empty spot on the front of the building.

“I know,” I reply. I also know that Richard is head over heels over her. It takes one to know one. “How are you feeling?” I gesture for the cigarette. She frowns but hands it over to me with her Zippo. I light it up and take a draft. She watches me carefully. When I don’t cough, she titles her head to the side and smiles a little bit. I hand it back to her.

“You look so hot,” she tilts her head up and closer, wanting to be kiss. I oblige. I start slow and gentle, but as she relaxes into me, I hug her and take two steps forward in the direction of the wall. I carefully pin her against the wall and deepen the kiss. I maneuver so I can get my hand between the dress and the coat, so no one can see that I’m firmly grabbing her ass, pressing her against me. Dana moans against my lips and now I'm really pinning her against the wall, she offers no resistance. I break the kiss so I can catch my breath and I begin trailing kisses along her jaw, and then her neck. I know there's a special spot behind her ear…

“Oh goooood…” She growls and I take pride in that reaction. There's no way we can keep this up with this cold and all this stupid fabric between us. But I do enjoy the challenge. I work my hands slowly up and down her body, as I start nibbling her ear.

“You don't have to explain anything to me, you know that, right?” I keep kissing and biting and sucking her neck. “I know where your heart is, babe, you have to stop worrying about what you think I'll think, OK?” I step away a little bit in order to make eye contact. “I love and you love me, that's all that matters. So, you don't have to freak out about me freaking out. And stop trying to control everything, would you?”

Her eyes are wide open.

“Sam…” She starts and stops.

“I know the effect you have on people, Dee. I'm not going to hold it against you. I wouldn't be an asshole if I did so.”

Dana blinks several times and tries to fight a smile.

“Sam Winchester, you're one of a kind,” she says and hugs me, burying her head on my chest. I hug her and kiss her crown.

 

 

 

We get back inside. I can feel she's more relaxed and that makes me happy. Gabriel, Charlie and Dorothy are now sitting on one of the tables in the conference room and we sit with them. The waiters keep coming back with food and drinks and the band keeps playing in the background. They're actually pretty good. Dana gets closer and closer to me, until our chairs are side to side, and our bodies pressed together. I have my arm over her shoulder, resting on the back of her chair, and she keeps her hand on my knee. Sometimes I catch Gabriel glancing at her and smiling sheepishly.

Dick Roman pronounced a beautiful speech after dinner. He addressed his audience as the leader he is. He was funny, he was inspiring, he was determined and assertive, but also humble and grateful. He thanked everyone, from the bottom to the top of the ladder. People stood up to cheer and applaud. I seriously think this guy could be running for president.

When the waiters brought us dessert, Dana face lit up. Everything is so delicious, it was hard to decline anything.

“Where are you spending Christmas?” Charlie asks me.

“With my family in Maine, you guys?”

“Dorothy's family. And then we'll spend New Year's Eve here with some friends. What are you doing this year, Ketch?”

“Actually, I'm going to Maine with Sam.” Charlie and Gabriel stare at her, gaping.

“You are meeting Sam's parents?” Charlie leans forward with a frown.

“Yep,” Dee replies with a shrug, she keeps working on her sorbet.

“Our little girl is finally growing up!” Gabriel says pretending to wipe tears out of his eyes. “Never thought I'd see the day!” Charlie takes a napkin, hands it to Gabriel with parsimony and they hold hands. Dorothy rolls her eyes with her whole body and sighs.

“What are you, twelve?” Dorothy facepalms but I can see Dana’s actually amused by the display of theatricality. She turns her head towards me with a smug expression in her face and brings me for a hot kiss. Of course, I play along and take it up a notch. Gabriel and Charlie whistle and clap and bang the table.

“Please don't rile them up, Ketch!” Dorothy begs but we're all in.

When we finally break up the kiss, Dana's a little blushed and I'm kinda panting.

“Did you get that?” Charlie slaps Gabriel on the shoulder.

“I have it all here,” Gabriel replies holding his phone. “I'm going to make a GIF out of this, this is pure gold!” Dana doesn't give a fuck and I can't stop smiling. “Hey, Ketch, your husband is looking for you.” Gabriel informs us looking over our shoulders. Dee turns around and waves. She turns back to me and whispers in my ear.

“I'm have to catch up with Richard and Zach about some things. Do you mind?”

“No, go ahead.”

“I'll be right back,” she kisses me lightly on the cheek and stands up. Charlie and Gabriel do the same and they walk over to Dick, with their arms locked together.

“They're only missing the Yellow Brick Road,” Dorothy says and I laugh out loud. They're a cute bunch.

 

 

 

Dorothy is really good company and I don't realize it's almost an hour since we were left alone. She tells me about her business. Turns out she's a baker and has a little coffee shop downtown.

“I owe Ketch a lot. Not only she introduced me to the love of my life, she helped me get my business going.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, she was involved in a financial program to helped small business here in Chicago. That's how she and I became acquainted. Ketch and Gabe interviewed me and I got selected. They helped me with my business plan and pretty much everything to get me started. Actually, all the businesses in my street started the same way.”

“I didn't know about that,” I tell her.

“Well, I only know because I was part of it. Charlie doesn't discuss her job with me either. They keep it really tight. That's also why they spend so much time in here, they can't take a lot of work back home.”

“Yes, besides the slumber parties, right?”

“Absolutely! One time, Charlie came back from New York with braids all over her head. She said Kevin and Ketch insisted and that she couldn't refuse. Have you met Kevin?”

“No, not really. Is he here?”

“No, Gabe told us he's attending something work related. Oh, look, they're back.”

I turned around and I see Gabe walking with Charlie and two steps behind, Dick Roman with Dana. She has her hand on his arm. Gabe and Charlie are coming our way, but Dick is taking Dana to the dance floor.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, hon,” Charlie says and sits back down.

“It's OK, Sam here is really good company,” Dorothy says.

“Everybody loves Sam,” Gabriel says rolling his eyes. “Dorothy, would you like to dance?” He reach out his hand.

“Well, of course,” Dorothy stands up and they walk over to the dance floor hand in hand.

The band starts playing ”Can't take my eyes off you.” There's a lot of couples on the dance floor but can only see Dana, gracefully moving around, with a smile in her face.

“Oh, I see Dick brought his A game,” Charlie is trying to get a waiters attention. “He loves Frankie Valli,” a waitress comes along and Charlie asks for another Martini. “You know Dick is crazy about Ketch, right?” Charlie looks at me quizzically.

“I don't blame him,” I shrug. The waitress asks me if I want anything and I ask for a soda. She nods politely and leaves.

“You don't mind?” Oh, I see. This a set-up. Ok.

“No, why would I?” I lean closer to the table. Charlie doesn't trust me and that we were left alone, she can poke around. “Correct me if I'm wrong, Charlie, but I have the impression that something is bothering you. Do you want to tell me what is it?”

“You're good, Winchester, you're really good,” she leans closer. “Almost too good.” She's keeping a casual tone but I know she's serious.

“Is that a problem?”

“You tell me.”

“You think we are going too fast, don't you?”

“I might.”

“But that's not all. You think I'm hiding something. Look, Charlie, I'm not hiding something. I have a past, of course. I had a life before I met Dana. But I can't share that with you on a Christmas party the very first time we actually meet, can I?”

“I guess not.”

“You keep saying that you heard a lot about me, but you haven't, have you? Just the overall, not the details. I know that because Dana never shares details. She's very private.”

“She's a fucking vault.”

“Yes, she is. And I know how frustrating that can be, believe me. So, what do you want to know? Ask me and I'll answer as honestly as possible.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The waitress brings our drinks.

“How did you meet?”

“I told you that, over at Rowena's shop.”

“What were you _really_ doing there?”

“I was getting help.”

“With what?”

“With my thing.”

Charlie stares at me. The band starts playing “Fly me to the moon.”

“Earlier you asked me if I was special like Dana. The answer is yes.”

“What's your thing?”

“I'm good at finding people.”

“Missing people?”

“Missing dead people.”

“Do you see dead people?”

“Yes. But they reach out to me, not the other way around.”

I don't think Charlie expected so much honesty.

“How do you know that Dana is special?” I ask instead.

“We are friends, colleagues _and_ neighbors, Sam. A lot of things happen when you get to share quality time with her.”

“What kind of things?”

“Weird things.”

“Things you can't explain.”

“Yes, like the fact that she seems to know everything about everyone. She always knows when someone is lying, when someone is sick, when someone did something bad, when they are hiding something. She always knows. It's like she can see right through you.”

“And what did she see in you?”

“She saw I was struggling. And she helped me like no one ever helped me, not even my family. Especially not my family. She's the reason I have this job, a roof over my head, Dorothy. Damn, if it wasn't for her, I'm not sure I’d be around. She's my best friend, but she's also my family.”

“What are you afraid of, Charlie?”

“I don't want to see her get hurt.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt her. It's not even on the list. I love her. And I know you love her too.”

“I know.”

“It's OK to worry for those you love.”

“Are you worry?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Because that's what I do, I worry about the people I love and everything else.”

“Yeah, but are you worry about her?”

“As much as you are.”

“Do you promise me that you're gonna watch over her and keep her safe?”

“I’ll do my best.”

We are so caught up in our own talk that none of us realized Dana was back. She's so sneaky and stealthy, I'm thinking about get her to wear bell. Dee drinks out of my soda and then leans closer.

“Wanna dance, babe?” She's grinning widely.

“Sure.” I reply. I smile at Charlie and she winks at me. We walk to the dance floor hand in hand. The band begins playing “My eyes adored you” followed by “I’ve got you under my skin.” I'm not a good dancer, but I don't care right now.

“I think this is the first time we dance,” I say in her ear.

“We should do it more often.” She looks up and asks for a kiss. I oblige. I don't think there would ever be a moment when I wouldn't want to kiss her.

 

 

I  hear something breaking. Glass shattered. I reach out with my hand. Dana's not on her side of the bed. I make my way downstairs and I call her name on the landing. Nothing. I sense movement on the kitchen. With cautious, I open the kitchen door. The fridge's door is open and that's the only light in the room. There's something behind the kitchen island. I take a step closer and I see Dana crouching on the floor over glass shards and blood. Her head jerks up and she looks at me, eyes black.

“Where are the fucking keys?” She hisses. I'm frozen in place. She's holding a piece of glass in her hands.

“Dana?” I call her name. She stares at me. She looks down to her hand and back at me. She blinks several times.

“Sammy?” Her voice is closer to her own now.

“Hey, babe, I'm going to turn on the lights now, OK?” I step back and turn the lights. Dana is standing up now. “Sit on the island babe, there's glass everywhere.” She looks at me with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” She asks me in a whisper.

“No, I'm OK.” I gesture the counter. She nods and climbs on the counter. “Turn this way, babe.”

She does what I say. “Give me your hands.” She's still holding the piece of glass. She reaches out and only then she realizes. Blood is dripping from the gash in her palm.

“I'm sorry,” she says and the sadness in those words breaks my heart.

“It's OK, love. It's OK. Let's get you clean up.”


	20. Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the Baby episode. I hope you enjoy this as well!

“What do you think?” Dana asks leaning against the hood.

“I can't decide if it looks better or worse than the pictures you showed me," Bobby narrows his eyes.

“Oh, c'mon!" Dana throws her hands up. 

“How much?”

“Twelve hundred.”

“In this condition?”

“Yep. I have the guy's word on this.”

Bobby squints and looks back at the house. The guy in question is leaning against the door frame. It feels like the first minutes of  _Christine_.

“Let's get a look at it first.” He gestures Dana to move away so he can have a look under the hood.

"Wait, let me get the keys, so you can hear her purr." She runs back to the house. Bobby takes a peek under the hood and scratches his head. This is too good to be true.

 

 

 

Dana finished the prep for the first coat of paint. Her baby is looking good. Bobby is finishing something at the office, but she could go ahead in her bike. She could, but she doesn't. Instead, she makes a cup of tea and drinks it as she admires her job. She should wrap up and call it a day but she can't help lingering. She has Science homework and a paper to proofread. The contradictions!

“You deserve a beer, kid.” Bobby says assessing the job.

“On a school night? Ain't you a role model.”

“I said you deserve one, not that I recommend it. Why don't you wrap it up? I think we can call it a day.”

 

Dana plays through the stations.

“Just pick one already!”

“Fine!” Dana leaves something rock-ish. “Where did you put the mixes I made?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“You are  supposed to keep those in here, Bobby!”

“I think they're in the office somewhere. When you have your own car, you won't need to worry about people touching your stuff, you know that, right?”

“I told you I haven't decided a color yet, don't try to rush me!”

“It's doesn't have to be one or the other, you know? You need to think outside the box. I know you think it's too much, but if you like it, then there's no arguing. It's your car, it's your choice. If want blue with white stripes, then get the blue with the white stripes!”

Dana's squints at the road ahead. A minute goes by in silence. Another one follows.

“Bobby, I want my car to be blue with two white stripes on the hood," she declares.

“You know the shades of paint you want?” Bobby replies.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Good. Also, I like boys _and_ girls,” she adds.

“Oh.” Bobby frowns a little bit and nods. “So... it's Lisa _and_ Adam?” He glances quickly at her.

“Sometimes it's just Lisa, sometimes it's just Adam. Sometimes it's both, sometimes it's none.”

“Do Lisa and Adam know about each other?”

“Yes, I told them.”

“And?”

“And they're OK with it.”

“Good. Are you OK with it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Bobby scratches his beard. “Dating is complicated as it is and you're dating two very different  persons. Sounds like a lot of work, if you don't mind me saying.” Another quick glance.

Dana touches the scar on the back of her neck.

 

 

 _A lot of work_.

As a highschool freshman, Dana got into the lacrosse school team. It was fun. Sometimes she played third or second home, sometimes left attack wing, sometimes she was all about the defense. She was versatile and fast, and her team loved her. Naturally, their rivals felt exactly the opposite about her. Sure enough, she got her ass whipped more times than she could count but that's how she met Cassie. Cassie was the first girl she ever kissed. She still thought about her. She was a very sweet girl. Except that time when she knocked Dana unconscious with her Crosse for ‘flirting’ with some boy.

When she woke up in the hospital bed, Sesame Street was on. Bobby was sitting on the chair next to the bed with her baby sister Anna on his lap. They're watching the TV in silence, unaware Dana had woken up. Her mom was probably outside having a smoke, even when she claimed she quit. Dana turned her attention to the TV. In that moment of both strange confusion and sharp awareness, the epiphany happened: first, Bert and Ernie were totally gay; and second, she had a very real, completely _not_ imaginary, and dangerous effect on people.

_Yes, she did._

 

 

“You don't think I can handle it?”

“I think you can do whatever you want, Dana. I just don't want you to feel like you _have to handle_ everything that's coming your way.”

“Well, coming out does that to you.” She looks at Bobby with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Bobby smiles back.

“I’m glad you told me, honey. Whatever you need, you can tell me.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Dana changes the station again.

“I guess I owe your uncle twenty bucks.” Bobby sighs.

“If it makes you feel better, he owns me fifty for telling you myself, another fifty for telling you before mom and if you joke about it in Thanksgiving that would be another fifty in my pocket. I could buy really nice Christmas gifts with that money, Bobby. Think about it.”

Bobby laughs out loud and shakes his head. Of course Dana would bet bigger money.

“That sounds like a good plan to me. I could really use a new shirt and a new guitar case."

"You got it, Bobby."

 

 

 

“Ohmygod,” Dana exclaims with her hands over her mouth. Bobby puts his hand over her shoulder. “She's beautiful,” she whispers and turns to hug Bobby.

“I'm glad you like it,” he pats her back. Dana doesn't let go. “Hey, are you OK?”

“Lisa broke up with me,” she replies not letting go.

“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that!” Bobby hugs her tightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She breaks off the hug. “I want to take Baby out for a ride if that's OK with you.”

“It's your car, kid, you can do whatever you want. Just come on time for dinner, we have to show it to your mom.” Bobby gives her another pad on the shoulder.

 

Her Baby purrs like a kitten and that makes Dana purrs in turn. Even when she kills the engine, she has that aftertaste of, well, arousal. She goes through the CDs in her bag and gets Chet Baker on. All set, she waits for Adam to get out of baseball practice. Any minute now. She's hot. She thinks in Adam's blue eyes and that's it, she's officially turned on. She runs her hands up and down her thighs and lets her mind wonder. She thinks about Adam, about his blue eyes. Adam on his knees, his rough hands clasped around her hips and his piercing blue eyes gawking at her, devouring her. He worships her. She reaches her hands out to tug his dark messy hair and Adam shuts his eyes in sheer pleasure. Wait. Wait a minute. Adam's blonde.

 _Holy shit_.

She sits up straight and looks around. Of course, she's alone in the car.

“So we're out of the friend zone?” She asks at loud. No one answers back, of course. Her heart rate is picking up the pace. It's exhilarating. She turns up the music and leans back down. She's on fire now.

She tries to relax but that's not happening. She's nervous and it's definitely weird. Well, not so much. She always knew they were going to end up together, but she never thought it was going to be like this.

“I'm a little nervous,” she says out loud again. Her mind flashes back to their first kiss. They used to kiss a lot. What would be like to kiss him right now?

Her lips parted in anticipation. She felt his hand on her neck, pulling her closer. This kiss was definitely not like the others.

 _Definitely more than friends now_.

Suddenly, he's gone.

_Fuck._

Baseball practice was finally over. The boys are making their way through the parking when some of them notice Baby. Against her better judgement, she stepped out of the car. That moment was over.

“Dammit, Singer!” One of the guys whistles.

“Is this yours, Dee?” Another one asks.

“Yep, she's my Baby.” Dana closed the door behind her. “Wanna a peek under the hood?”

 

When Adam walked out to the parking lot, most of the team was gathering around a car. He was a little bit surprised when he found Dana in the middle of the cluster, talking about the details of the restoration process and answering every questions that was thrown her way. She had everyone's attention, but she immediately notice him when he approached. She threw her 50% joyful 50% flirting smile at him and waved.

“OK, guys. Adam's here! Show’s over, fellas!” Mark yelled and the group disbanded a little bit. Adam shook his head and walked over to her girlfriend. They greet with a peck on the lips.

“The paint job is amazing,” he says in her ear.

“I know!” She chimes. “Let's get out of here, shall we?” Adam nods and gets in the passenger seat, leaving his duffle bag on the back seat. Some of the guys wave at them. Dana waves back and gets behind the wheel. They are waiting for it. She looks at Adam with a sheepish smug on her face and turns the key in the ignition. Baby roars into live and the guys in the parking lot lose it.

Adam stares at her eyes wide open.

“Damn,” he whispers.

“I know, right?” Dana hits the gas and Adam's eyes fill with wonder and something else. Some of the guys outside whistle and clap. Dana elegantly takes her Baby out of the parking lot and into the traffic.

“When did you get it?” Adam runs his hands on the dashboard.

“We picked her up after lunch,” Dana says. “We got a lift to Kansas and then drove back.”

“What did your dad say?” Adam is taking a closer look  to the upholstery.

“He was happy like a dog with two tails. He was totally right about those guys, they're really good.”

“And your mom?”

“Haven't seen her yet. I left Bobby back at the shop and came to pick you up.” Dana glances at him. Adam smiles.

“It's a great car, Dee. It's kinda weird you call it baby, but it's a great car.”

“Call _her_ Baby. It's a she. And she's awesome.” They stop at a red light. “Also, it's adequate. Nine months of work and all.” Green light, Dana makes a turn to the left.

“Wait, where are you going?” Adam's house is the other way.

“Adam, darling, all I want to do it's park this beauty somewhere quiet and have my way with you before dinner.” Dana's voice is deep and hot and Adam's pants get a lot tighter.

“Fuck, Dee, you can't say things like that to me,” his voice sounds more like a growl.

“I'm gonna do more than that, darling.”

 

Dana parked the car and immediately moved to the passenger seat, climbing on top of Adam. He showered after practice, so his hair looks darker than usual. Dana stares at his blue eyes and smiles before kissing him deeply. Adams gets his hand under her shirt and Dana moans. She buries her fingers on Adam's hair. Chet Baker keeps playing in the background. Dana's heart is pounding fast and hard in her chest, her breathing becomes shallow and rapid, her fingers are burning and there's a surge of energy going through her. Adam is aware something is happening, because he pulls away from her a little bit.

“Dee?” He asks.

“Shhh…” She whispers. “I want you,” she kisses his jaw line. Then she jerks his head back as she moves away. She wants to meet his gaze. She wants to see his blue eyes staring right back. Adam is staring back. “I want _you_ … _I want you_ …” she commands and he steps forward. Now, it's him. It's really him.

“Hello,” he says and his voice sounds deep and gravelly.

“Hi,” she replies and leans in for a kiss. His kisses are completely different from Adam's. His hands, his posture, his touch, everything is different. She doesn't really know how are they doing this but she's glad it's happening. Now, they need to be more comfortable. Without a word, she slides to the back seat and he follows soon after. Now they can share more skin. He takes his hoodie and helps her getting off her sweater. She helps him with his t-shirt and she takes off her own. The air around them is heavy, and she's intoxicated with his scent. Honey and summer storm. The more she looks at him the more she sees. He has tattoos, one in his rib cage and another covering his left shoulder and upper arm. And a piercing in his lower lip. And a wicked smile. They resume with the kissing and a lot has changed seen the last time they did this. She can feel his erection through the sweatpants and her own core getting warmer and wet.

“ _I want you so bad_ ,” she manages to say between kisses. He replies something, in another tongue. He trails kisses down her neck, her collar bone, her breasts, her stomach. He keeps his eyes on her as he climbs back up. There's another tattoo in his collar bone and he has a little silver hoop earring in his right ear. His gaze scorches her skin. He's so beautiful, it's breathtaking. He looks at her with the same devouring eyes and devotion.

Then they hear something. If Dana had to guess, she would say shots. But it's not possible. He looks back at her and she can tell he’s torn. Something is wrong. He has to leave, but none of them want to.

“It's OK.” She says and smiles reassuringly. “We can catch up later.” She sits up and brings him close for a goodbye kiss. He's not happy about leaving, and his kiss is a little frantic and desperate. She lets go of him and carefully calls Adam to the front of the line. It has to be an easy transition, otherwise he'll freak out. She knows that much. And slowly but surely, she feels Adam's lips, Adam's touch, Adam's scent of soap and body spray. She hugs him and grinds her hips against his hard-on and he moans in response.

“Baby, you have a condom?” She asks between kisses.

Adam stops as realization hits him.

“Shit, I forgot to buy more. Do you?” He says as he gets back up.

“Not in this bag pack.” She makes an apologetically face.

“Shit.” Adam sighs and his shoulders drop with frustration.

“I’ll make sure to have a spare package here in the car,” she promises and picks her t-shirt from the floor.

“That's probably a good idea.” Adam hands her the sweater and begins to dress back.

“You need help with that?” Dana asks gesturing to his crotch.

“No, let's get back. It's getting late and I think there's a storm coming. Can you smell it?” Adam looks outside the window and Dana feels guilty for tricking him.

Indeed, there was a storm building up in the horizon. Dana left Adam at his house and drove back to hers. By the time she got there, it was pouring. She drove around the back of the house and honked twice. Bobby stepped out of the kitchen door and gesture the barn in the back. Ow, he opened the barn for Baby. Bobby's the best. She kills the engine and listen to the rain. It's a great sound, but she's feeling a little off. Too much emotions for one day. She's about to get off when she catches a glimpse of him on the rearview mirror. His face is spattered with blood. He seems surprised to see her and smiles widely. He's not hurt. She lets go a weary sigh. He says something but there's no sound coming out of his mouth.

 _Rain check?_ She thinks.

 _Absolutely_. She hears his reply. _Be careful, you're not alone._ He sounded worried.

 _Wait, what?_ She turns around. But he's gone.

Back to square one.

 

 

Castiel is surprised to see her again in the bathroom mirror. Three times in one day? That's a first. She must be emotionally pumped, otherwise he can't explain. He washes out the blood off his face. The police won't get here anytime soon, he could easily take a shower. If there's any chance the shower works, which he seriously doubts. He's so energized, he can't stay put anyways.

He gets back to the living room. It's a fucking mess. What's his name is sitting on the couch. If it wasn't for the two shots in the chest, you could say he's sleeping. What's his name's girlfriend tried to run, but she didn't get that far. Is she dead? Yes, she is. Better get going, he doesn't want to meet any reapers today. Great, the door was kicked out of its hinges. Oh, more dead people in the hallway. That one is still alive, but not for long. Poor bastard. He walks out of the building the same way he walked in, unnoticed.

 _Maybe it was a combination on both sides_ , he thinks. _Maybe she was emotionally wired and I was particularly well supplied._ He looks back. Yes, a very distinct and dense spot on the map. He can hear sirens in the distance. Fuck. He can still feel her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lingers in him. He smiles and keeps walking.

 

_We should do this more often._

_Absolutely._ He feels her reply.

 

It's a good thing he barely sleeps, that means he can look out for her while she does. Especially tonight.

 

 

 

“Did you fall off the bed?” Fergus asks as soon as he picks up.

“Actually, I didn't sleep at all. Did you get the pictures?” Dana asks.

“You’re going to shag like a queen in that car of yours.”

“You’re so sophisticated, Uncle Fergus.”

“Says the one with a motel on wheels.”

They laugh like old friends.

“So, what kept you up last night?”

“Who.”

“Who happened?”

“Lisa.”

“Did you have a fight?”

“More like she dumped my sorry ass.”

“Ouch. On what basis?”

“She doesn't like to share.”

“Oh. I thought she knew Adam.”

“She does.”

“Weren’t you in a ménage à trois?”

“Yes, I suppose we can technically say we were.”

“That's a lot of grey in one sentence.”

“Well, it's too damn late for black and white shit. Or too early. I'm not sure. I haven't had my coffee yet. Actually, I'm waiting in my car for the coffee shop to open, so let's _not_ discuss the misdemeanors of my threesome before that happens, shall we not?”

“Fine. So Adam's not the problem?”

“Adam's not the problem.”

Fergus pauses.

“There's nothing wrong with you, Dana. Nothing.”

“Please, we know that's not true.”

“So you have a little extra, big deal.”

“It's not the extra thing. It's actually the lack of, of… I don't know. Lisa made it sound like my heart is not in the right place. Like, I'm emotionally unavailable but also unable. She, she didn't put it like that, that's what I heard behind her words.”

“So you are not in love with her, that's not abnormal. To like somebody, to love somebody and to be _in love_ with somebody are different experiences and emotions. Sometimes they’re connected, sometimes they are not. You can only trust your judgement. I mean, one can only measure the world through one's own perception. That's intransferable and sometimes inadequate to others. And you're seventeen, for God's sake! You're still too young!”

“I'm an old soul.”

“Then you have already experienced everything there is about love and Lisa doesn't make the cut.”

“You think?”

“I suppose it's possible.”

“The grey area.”

“Exactly.”

“What if I'm already in love with someone?”

“You met someone?”

“Not yet. I mean, I know it's out there…”

“Well, it's a possibility, of course. But you don't want to put all your hopes in someone that might or might not exist. I mean, if she or he exists in your mind as a somewhat stable array of qualities and attributes, you might never discover someone who fits the glass shoe.”

“And then I'll turn into a pumpkin, won't I?”

“Worse, back in drags.”

“I understand what idealization can do to you. But, what if I know _for a fact_ he's out there and we just have to find our way back to each other?”

“A very fruitfull philosophical and literary topic: the way back to one's true whatever."

“Back to Ulysses."

"For instance."

"Maybe I should get a tattoo or something."

“Make it really snobby and pretentious and get it Greek."

"Yes! And I can add hybris and polytropos too."

"See? I _did_ teach you some useful stuff."

“Besides rolling cigarettes?”

“You sound like your mother.”

“Wow! Wow! You don't have to be a bitch about it!”

Fergus laughs.

“Is the coffee shop still closed?”

“Nah, not anymore. You were so in the zone, I didn't want to interrupt your stream of consciousness.”

“Who's being a bitch now?”

“Sorry, Uncle. My bad. Thanks for the talk.”

“Thank you, you just made my morning. And you sure have a beautiful baby.”

“I know, right? Talk to you later?”

“Of course. Bye, sweetheart.”

“Fergus?”

“Yes?”

“Take the umbrella.”

“I hear you.”

“Bye.”

 

_Am I Ulysses, dreaming about Penelope as I lie in bed with Calypso?_

_Am I Telemachus? Picking up the fragile threats of my unknown Father's narrative in my quest to find him?_

_Sleep deprivation does not help. Duly noted._

 

 

 

This time, they’re already in the back seat. Dana tried to recreate the ambience, so Chet Baker is playing and she picked up Adam after practice, just like the last time. They drove to the same spot. They're making out.

Dana calls to him. And he comes to the front desk. He seems to be a little bit confused at first but then he relaxes and his kisses turn hot and wet. Oh, he's into this alright. His hands begin to work up and down her body and his touch feels like cold electricity.

Wait.

Wait.

_Wait._

“Who the hell are you?” She breaks off the kiss.

“Who do you want me to be, beautiful?” He says and Dana knows without a doubt it's not him.

“What's your name?” She tries to snap out of it but she's still intoxicated.

“I go by many names, just as you do.” He caresses her neck and Dana's officially confused _and_ turned on.

“I didn't call _you_.”

“Funny you mention it. When you don't use names, it's sorta an open call. And this call was particularly strong and loud, I _had_ to pick up.” He leans all the way forward and he's kissing her again. And Dana doesn't fight back. Her brain turns to hot goo.

Wait.

There's something, she should be worry about, about something, ohmygod, he feels so good, he feels, like, like…

_He's feeding on you_.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” She yells and he's flown to the other end of the seat.

“What? Oh, c'mon! Don't be shy! We were having such a good time!” Dana sits up right, she can't believe she felt for this asshole. “You smell so good in this vessel…” he growls.

“Fuck you!” Dana hisses.

“Fuck me!” He laughs but he's serious. “Just tell me where you are, and I'll come. I'll come on my knees. I'll do whatever you want me to do. Please, just tell me where you are, so I can get to you! I'll be obedient!” Is he serious?

 

_He's stalling._

 

“Get out!” She yells but he doesn't leave.

“Oh, don't be mad at me! _Please_ , I don't want to leave you, let me stay with you! _Pretty please?_ ”

 

I said GET OUT!

 

Adam's body drops on the seat boneless, like a rag doll.

 

_Oh. Fuck._

 

 

“What's going on with you?”

“This Arc friendly weather.”

“It's only rain.”

“Nothing is only something. There's always something more.”

“That’s just nonsense.”

“Yes, and something more.”

“You're sure something.”

“But you're something more.”

“You know we can't keep it up, right?”

“But I love our nonsense challenges!”

“Not much of a challenge for you. But seriously, what's going on with you? You've been jumpy for a few days now.”

“Well, you know. College life, life-life, everything one throws in the face of the other to make it cry like a baby. You know…”

“What are you talking about? Since when you care about college?”

“Ohmygod, Joanna, _how_ can you say _that_? You know I'm very serious about my education.”

“You know what I mean! You don't stress over college. I don't know how, but you seem to thrive when the rest of us crashes and burns.”

“I’m a good student, so what? That doesn't mean I can't stress about stuff.”

“C’mon, Ketch, it's not just that. And it's not college. So, what is it?”

“Nothing, I've been feeling a little off, that's all.”

“Something to do with your cousin visiting for Christmas?”

“No, not really. I mean, I'm not thrilled, but whatever.”

“Something to do with my dad visiting for Thanksgiving?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Because I happen to remember your face when I told you he was coming and it's pretty much your default face now. And it has a bad vibe.”

“Look, I'm not gonna lie to you…”

“But?”

“Nothing, just that.”

“So you're upset and you won't explain why?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, what you said.”

“Which part?”

"What do you mean which part? I just agreed with you."

"Yes, but which part?"

“Jo, this isn't helping.”

“Let me rephrase that. What's the problem with my dad coming over?"

“There's no problem.”

“You said there was.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did. I just asked you and you said yes.”

“You didn't ask anything.”

“I did. I said 'so you're upset about my dad coming over and you're not going to explain why’ and you said yes.”

“You didn't say that, you said I was upset and I said I was feeling a little bit off."

“How can you misquote what I said 5 seconds ago?”

“Look, this is _definitely_ not helping. Can you just drop it, please?”

“Just tell me what's wrong and I'll drop it!”

“There's nothing wrong, Jo!”

“So you were lying when you said it was college stuff?”

“No, Jo, I wasn't lying! I'm stressed about that too!”

“So you _are_ stressed about something else!”

“I'm stressed about life in general, OK?”

“But in particular, you're stressed about what exactly?”

“Jezz, Jo! This is a freaking nonsense nightmare!”

“Just tell me what's wrong and we can drop this conversation!”

“For fuck's sake! Fine! I was going to propose to you, OK!? I was going to propose to you after Halloween and give you a fucking ring, alright!? But now your dad is coming for Thanksgiving and I don't want you to feel pressured to come out to him! So that's why I'm giving you this vibe, OK? It's my _I don't know what to do_ vibe! And the fucking sky is falling down on us like a biblical flood and we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere! We should have stayed home! Fuck!"

 

“You bought me a ring?”

 

“Yes...”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Why?”

“What do you mean _why_? I just told you why!”

“May I see it?”

“It's in my backpack.”

“Where?”

“Back there.”

 

“OK, I can't reach, wait, let me just…Grab this… OK, where did you put it?”

“It's there.”

“Where? You have so much crap by the way.”

“Don't throw my things! And put back your seatbelt!”

“Where is it?”

“It's there! You just drop it!”

“This thing?”

“Yes, Jo, I put your ring inside a Sponge Bob pencil case. Open it!”

“Ohmygod! This looks expensive!”

“It’s just the box, Jo, you're supposed to open the box as well.”

“I know that!”

 

 

“So?”

 

 

 

“Holy shit!”

 

“You like it?”

 

“Holy shit!”

“OK?”

“Holy shit this is beautiful!”

“Wait, no, no, I'm supposed to put it in your finger! Wait!”

“I can put my own engagement ring, thanks… This looks gorgeous! Look at my hand!”

“So is it a yes or you're just being vain?”

“I'm gonna text Mom!”

“Wait! Just answer me!”

“You didn't ask me anything!”

“Jesus, Jo! Fine! Joanna Beth Harvelle, would you m---"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo? Baby? Are you alright?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baby?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are you OK?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joanna?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo, wake up!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WAKE UP!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WAKE UP BABY! PLEASE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PLEASE, JOANNA! PLEASE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I BEG YOU! PLEASE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PLEASE! COME BACK!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don't leave me...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please, don't leave…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please… Stay with me...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo? Wake up, baby… Wake up… You're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine, just, just wake up, you have to wake up...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baby?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You're scaring me…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baby?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh God no…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not like this, please, not like this…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm sorry, Jo…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm so sorry, baby…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh my God I'm so sorry baby

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jo…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HELLO?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “Hello? Ma’am? Can you hear us? We're gonna get you out! Just hang on!”

 

 

 

_Help her, help Jo…_

 

 

 

“It's OK, we're gonna get you out! Just hang on in there!”

 

“Jesus Christ, what the...? Hey! Hey! It's still alive!”

 

“Fuck! Just shoot! Shoot it! It's hurting her!”

 

“Fuck!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BANG

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey! Just stay with me! Hey! Hey!”

 

“C'mon! C'mon sweetheart! Stay with us! C'mon, guys!”

 

“Let's get her out of here!”

 

“That's it, sweetheart, just hang on! We got you, we got you…”

 

“Help Jo, help, help my friend, please, help her...”

 

“Your friend's already on her way to the hospital, sweetie. Now let's get you out of here, OK? Just stay focus, c'mon, tell me what's your name?”

 

 

 

“Careful guys! Careful!”

 

 

 

“Damnit!”

 

 

 

_Guys! She stopped breathing! Let's get her out now, damn it! C'mon!_

_Just hang on!_

_C'mon!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Fight, sweetie!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_You can do it!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Just keep fighting!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Come back to me Dana!**


	21. That kind of thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couples who renovate together stay together, am I right?

“Have you seen my belt?”

She shrugs and keeps drinking her tea all the while staring at me.

“I could swear I saw it here." I hate night shifts when Dana's here. I hate not to sleep with her. Gets me cranky. I'm almost ready to go, minus the belt, of course. Dana's smiling.

“What?” I button up my shirt.

“Why are you so cranky about?” She's sitting in a lotus position on the middle of the bed. She looks particularly relaxed.

“I can't find half of my stuff.”

“Because there's only half of your stuff here,” she replies matter of fact.

“I know.” I finish with the shirt and I catch a glimpse of my belt beneath Dana's clothes on the chair. “And you keep leaving your stuff on top of my stuff.” I rescue my belt and show it to her like _aha_. Dana keeps smiling, like she has a secret. “You're being weird, love.”

“I was just thinking…” She smiles even brighter.

“I'm listening,” I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. But Dana doesn't speak up. I walk back to the bedroom with the toothbrush in my mouth. She keeps grinning like the jerk she is. “Yeah?” I ask trying to modulate.

“Move in. Like, for real. Let's stop 'practically living together’ and let's _actually_  live together.” I know my jaw dropped. Dana continues. “I know this house can be a little _too modern_ , so I thought we could do some changes around. Maybe get you an office or a man cave or whatever. We could remodel the garage. But also, on a smaller scale, there's plenty of options. We could change the decor, pick a warmer palette, get new furniture, you know, get something more of your liking. And I can totally rearrange the closet to make room for both of us. Also, you talked about doing some improvements to your grandparent’s house back in Lawrence? Maybe we can get two makeovers for the price of one? I can get the same people who were involved in this project. Or it can be your own project. Whatever you want. I think probably this house could be a 4 weeks thing. Probably less. The Lawrence house could take 12 weeks, depending on your plan, of course.”

I go back to the bathroom, rinse, go back to the bedroom and sit on the bed.

“Did you just asked me to move in?”

“Yes.” She keeps grinning.

“Ok. Just checking.”

“So?” She's so excited.

“Can I think about?”

“Of course, babe.” She's all teeth and crinkles around her eyes.

“This is a big step. And there's a lot to think about.” I'm a little shocked to be honest.

“It's that  kind of thing, yes.”

I look at her. She looks back at me. Her easy expression never faltered.

“You're gonna be late,” she reminds me and pads my knee.

 

There's something bothering me. And it has nothing to do with Dana. I make sure to tell her precisely that when I meet her for lunch.

“I know,” she says looking at the menu. “Wanna talk about it?” She's looking gorgeous in a white dress and a blue jacket. This is one of Dana's favorite places here in Kansas because they have a patio for smokers. She puts down the menu and looks at me, smiling. I find her calm somewhat disturbing.

“Most of my things are in a storage unit back in Brooklyn.”

She takes a cigarette. “And?” She lights it.

“I feel like I never actually moved to Lawrence and now you asked me to move to Kansas…”

“It’s an idea, Sammy. I offered my house because it seemed more convenient. It's bigger, newer, and it's not a family property. Besides, you can drive to Lawrence, but I can't drive to Kansas. And I already commute way too much." She shurgs. 

The waitress comes to take our orders.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dana greets her. “So I'll have the mushroom burger with the sweet potato fries, please. Sam?”

I forgot what I wanted. I open the menu again. Dana sighs.

“He'll have the kale salad with the mini carrot quiche. And could you bring us a pitcher of iced tea, please?” Dana takes the menu out of my hands and hands both to the waitress.

“Sure. I'll be right back,” she smiles and leaves us alone.

Dana takes a long draft and shakes her head. “You’re freaking out, Sammy.”

“I am, I'm sorry,” I don't know what else to say.

“Sorry for what exactly?” Dana's patience seems to be infinite today.

“For freaking out.”

“You're so cute,” she smiles broadly. “Let’s break things down, shall we? Start with the storage unit back in Brooklyn.”

Our waitress gets back with our pitch of iced tea. We both thank her this time.

“After the divorce, I moved to Queens. Most of my stuff didn't fit in the new place, so I rent a storage unit.”

“You mean the things you and Jess had in house you rent in Brooklyn?”

“Yes, but not all. She took some things with her when she moved out.”

“You mean when she left you?”

“Yes,” I reply and I notice Dana's temper doesn't falter. Her soft grin is still there.

“What about Sophie's things?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her pictures, her toys, her clothes, her _things_ , where are they?”

“I have some back in Lawrence.”

“And the rest?”

“Jess took some things with her.”

“Is that all? Do you have some of Sophie's things in the storage unit?”

“I guess.”

“You are not sure?”

“No, I'm not sure.”

“Who did the moving?”

“My mom, Eileen and Jack. Rufus helped too."

“I see.”

Our meals arrive and Dana puts out her cigarette. I stare at the plate. It looks really good, but I'm not really hungry.

“Eat.” Dana orders me and I hesitate. She sighs. “Look, Sam. We'll figure it out, OK? Try to enjoy the food and the company here, would you?” She smiles that big smile of hers. But I can't shake this feeling off. She sighs again and leans closer to me. “It seems to me that you haven't thought about the idea of _a home_ for quite some time. I guess the only real home you had was with Jess and Sophie. Everything after them, everywhere after that, didn't feel right. I know you think you don't really fit anywhere, but that's not true, Sammy. _We_  fit. That's why I asked. I'm not saying it's a natural step, and of course it's a big decision. But from what I'm gathering, that's not really the problem. I think you're just catching up with some unfinished business. That's all. However, you're not alone. Whatever swings our way, we'll figure it out.” She looks at me and I can tell she believes in us. She believes in me.

 

 

 

“This is _gorgeous_. We are definitely keeping it. Is there a set?” Dana's voice is coming somewhere outside. She refused to walk into the unit, she said cluttered places freak her out.

“I don't know what you are looking at,” I reply trying to figure out Jack's hand writing on some of the boxes.

“Now I'm looking at you, babe. And the question still applies.” Dana leans on the door with a mischievous grin.

“You know I'm not the one with the twin, right? Maybe you should ask Jack and Eileen.” I begin moving the boxes away so I can open them.

“Yeah,” she says with dreamy eyes. “That would be…” she trails off. “Too bad you're not the one with the twin. Anyways, I was talking about the arm chair. The fabric is a little worn out, but we could do the upholstery again.”

“I think there were two of those.” I look around and I think I see the second one peeking out of a corner.

“We can keep that coffee table too, after we refinish it.” She points out another corner. “Did you find the tea set yet?”

I froze.

“What?”

Dana shrugs.

“Sophie told me about it. She asked me if we could keep it. It was a present, right?”

“My mom gave it to her for her birthday. Sophie _told_ you?”

“Hm-huh.”

“Sophie _speaks_ to you?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Do you see her?”

“Not like you do, but yes.”

“Since when?”

“Since we met.”

“Since we met?”

“Hm-huh.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

She takes a deep breath.

“Well, she asked me not to.”

“What? Why?”

“She said she didn't want you to feel guilty, I don't know.”

“Oh.” Fuck. I can sense her here with us. I'm pretty sure that if I could concentrate enough, I would be able to spot her.

“I didn't know you could do that.”

“It doesn't happen often. But Sophie is such a bright and powerful soul, it's kinda hard to miss.”

“She is?”

“Hm-hum. She's also an old soul. And very funny. Was she always like that?”

“She was hilarious! Funnier than a lot of people I know. She was the spirit of every party, you know? I'm sure she would have become the class clown.”

“Absolutely.”

“Either that or the Sleeping Beauty. I think she was the only kid I know who loved to take naps. Nap time with her was the best. We never have any problems with bed time. It was quite the opposite, she hated mornings. And she was a slug for chores and such, except when it came to play. She had a great imagination, she came up with these intricate games with ridiculous rules, which she kept changing all the time…” I trail off.

“She sounds like a lovely girl.”

“Yeah, absolutely. You’d have like her.”

“I do like her.”

I frown.

“Does she like you?”

Dana stands up straight. “Sophie, one for yes, two for hell yeah!” She says and I jumped when I hear two knocks somewhere behind me. I turn to Dana and I see her eyes go wider as she covers her mouth with her hands.

“Did you hear that?” I ask her and Dana nods.

“I didn't mean…” Dana trails off. “I’m sorry, I didn't, I didn't mean to…”

“Babe, it's OK.” I try to move around the unit to the spot I think I heard the noise coming from. I could swear I hear Sophie giggling, like when we played hide and seek. Instead, I find a box with my sister's handwriting. _Fragile. China._

“I guess we find the tea set.” I emerge from the back with the box. Dana's face is a little pale. “Love, it's OK. Here, take this, we are putting it in the trunk. And I think it's time for a little break.”

 

We drove the Impala to New York. I think it was our first proper road trip. Dana spend some time in the backseat answering calls and emails, but most of the time, it was just the two of us. For the last couple of weeks, we talked about the renovation plans for both houses. First, we're going to tackle the Kansas house. Like Dee guessed, it's going to take only four weeks to do the modifications. That includes adding an office room for me and renovating the garage so I can work on my car and ‘whatever manly thing you want to do there’. I have the impression that Dee thinks I need a work station or something like that after she saw me sanding a wooden shelf. With her, it's hard to know where her planning and imagination end and where her kinks begin. We're still working on the details of the rest of the house. Of our house.

“We need to pick up some fabric samples tomorrow,” she says looking at her phone.

“I thought we already had samples,” I sip at my third cup of coffee. Brunch is officially over.

“These are different samples. We need options, babe. And those chairs, they need attention after being neglected for so long.” She keeps texting.

“I feel neglected.” I nudge her under the table.

She looks up, confused.

“I'm sorry, I have to call Gabe. Be right back.” She stands up, comes to my side, kisses me lightly on the lips and walks out of the dinner. My eyes follow her. When she begins walking up and down in front of the dinner, I can tell it's something important. We’re staying at Gabe's place tonight, but he's not here at the moment. This conversation must be pressing. Dana’s never off the clock, not really. She tries, especially when she's with me, but there's always something work related in her mind. I don't mind, not really. But I can tell it bothers her.

I check my phone. I texted Jess to let her know that I was coming here to empty the storage unit in case she wanted to take something with her or maybe be send someone to pick them up. I know some of her stuff are here. I haven't talked to her for quite some time. I used to call her once in awhile, especially on Sophie's birthday but I stopped when she remarried. She asked for the address and told me she'd let me know if she could make it. That was almost two weeks ago. I texted her early this morning to let her know I was gonna be here, but she hasn't texted or called back. I don't know what to do. Should I leave her stuff in the unit and mail her the key? She never asked for anything before, so I guess she doesn't really need anything. Dana comes back and she looks stressed.

“You OK, love?” I ask as she seats down again.

“Peachy. I'll be at the office tomorrow, probably all day.” She stares at her coffee cup.

“It's OK. I'll pick up the samples. Just text me the address.” I gesture the waitress to bring us the check. Dana keeps staring at the cup. Must be something big.

 

We hold hands as we walk back to the building. Dana's deep in thought, I can feel her struggling with something. I get back to work and Dana sits on the arm chair and begins texting like crazy. After a moment, I check on her and I notice she moved from stressed to upset. I go over her and crouch in front of her. She's resting her elbows on her knees.

“Hey,” I whisper and she looks up. “What's wrong?” She shakes her head. “You can't talk about it, I know. What can I do?” She leans in to hug me. I hug her back. We stay like that for a long minute.

“Sam?”

I look up.

“Jess?” I stand up  and Dana mimics me.

“Hi, sorry, I tried to call,” she says, somewhat apologetically.

“It's OK, hum, this is Dana. Dana, this is Jess.”

“Hi Jess,” Dana turns her business mode on so smoothly, I'm genuinely impressed. “Nice to meet you.” She looks at me and smiles. “I’m going to get us that coffee. Jess, do you want me to bring you something?”

“No, I'm OK. Thanks.”

“Cool, I’ll just take this with me.” With both ease and speed, Dana grabs my dad's old guitar case and her bag, and then proceeds to leave us alone. When she walks past Jess, she turns around and mouth a _wow she's hot_ and keeps walking, not missing a beat. I try my best not to laugh.

 

 

 

_You fail to mention your mom looked like the Sleeping Beauty._

_I'm the Sleeping Beauty! Mom is Rapunzel. And I did told you she was pretty._

_Pretty doesn't cut it, Soph._

_Don't worry, you're pretty too. And scary. That's a thing Mommy doesn't have._

_Well, thank you, Soph._

_You're very welcome!_

 

Of course, we don't need more coffee. At least not now. So I make my way towards Prospect Park, as it's only a few blocks away. I take my time to find a nice spot. The weather is really nice, and there's no real hurry. I need to take my time to figure things out. I need to slow down and think.

I feel kinda bad for leaving Sam, especially after I repeated over and over again that we'd figure things out together, but, on the other hand, I could really tell Jess was not happy to see me. I think he noticed that too. She looked strangely familiar, as well. 

I sit on the grass, under a giant oak tree. I take my _cancer paraphernalia_ , as Charlie insist on calling it, and I begin rolling cigarettes. I focus on the task ahead of me and I let myself go with every measured breath.

Someone touches my shoulder. I turn around and I see blue eyes staring at me.

“Hello,” the little girl greets me. I see him peeking through her eyes.

“Hello stranger,” I smile broadly. “Care to join me?”

The child nods and sits beside me. I keep rolling my cigarettes. He leans closer and closer.

“What's that?” He points to the guitar case.

“A guitar.”

“Can you play something?”

“Sure. Let's see if I can tune it up first,” I leave my cigarettes aside and I reach for the guitar case. I open it and stare at the beautiful acoustic Martin Smith  Sam inherit from his dad. He told me John had 5 in total, and this one was Sam's pick, although he confessed he never actually learned how to play it. I know Eileen has an electro acoustic Gibson, she played for us when we visit them for Christmas. If I had to guess, I said Jack has an Gibson as well, maybe an Epiphone, definitely electric.

I take the guitar and give it a try. Naturally, it's out of tune. It takes me some time but I think I made it work. I haven't sing in ages, not since Jo anyways. Speaking of catching up.

 

_Traveling north, traveling north to find you_  
_Train wheels beating, the wind in my eyes_  
_Don't even know what I'll say when I find you_  
_Call out your name, love, don't be surprised_  
  
_It's so many miles and so long since I've met you_  
_Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you_  
_But suddenly now I know where I belong_  
_It's many hundred miles and it won't be long_  
  
_It won't be long_  
_It won't be long_  
_It won't be long_  
  
_Nothing at all in my head to say to you_  
_Only the beat of the train I'm on_  
_Nothing I've learned all my life on the way to you_  
_One day our love, it's over and gone_  
  
_It's so many miles and so long since I've met you_  
_Don't even know what I'll find when I get to you_  
_But suddenly now I know where I belong_  
_It's many hundred miles and it won't be long_  
  
_It won't be long_  
_It won't be long_  
_It won't be long_

 

 

 

“Thank you, that was beautiful.” He says and squeezes my hand. In another circumstances, I would kiss him. But I'm in a park hanging out with someone else's child. That's a huge red flag. So I squeeze his hand instead. He stands up and hugs me. It's weird, I don't get to be hug by small children. He looks at me and smiles before he turns around and walks away.

_See you around_.

 

I make my way to the Guitar Center store on Flatbush Avenue to get a new set of strings. And then it hits me. _Travel North._ I text Gabe a 'call me when you get this' and walk in. Alle-freaking-luia.

A cutie named Alfred helps me and offers to change the strings for me and I oblige. I watch him work his way around and I get an idea.

“Hey Alfie, do you mind if I take a look around? I think this beauty needs some company.”

“Sure, let me know if you need anything,” he replies as he begins changing the third string. I throw him a big flirty smile and watch him go a new shade of red. I take a stroll around the shop.

I think about him, about how long we have. Timing, it's all about the fucking timing.

I look around. I pick two guitars I think will get along if I were to hang them on the wall next to John's, a black Epiphone Les Paul and a white Fender Stratocaster. I go back to fetch Alfie and I ask him if I can mess around with the ones I picked. Alfie's a cutie pie and we get to exchange pleasantries a little bit as we take turns to play the guitars. He makes a solid point when he asks me if I have an amp. I don't, so he shows me some options and I settle for a Marshall he recommends. I also get nice wall hangers. When it's my time to pay, I ask them to send everything to my office in Kansas.

Before I leave, I look for Alfie. I look for him in Alfie's blue eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” I tell them. And I mean it.

“Always,” he replies.

“Anytime,” Alfie replies.

I smile at them and I start making my way back to Sam.

 

_Tell me, is your mom still there?_

 

_Yes._

_How is she feeling?_

_A little sad. Mostly upset._

_Oh, I'm sorry._

_She's not upset about me. She's upset about dad._

_Why is that?_

_I don't know. I think she knows he's different now._

_Different how?_

_Different because of you._

_Oh. I see._

_But I guess she's more upset about you._

_Why is that?_

_Because I told her about you._

_Wait, what?_

When I get back home, I find Sam and Sophie taking a nap on the couch. Sophie's laying down across his chest and Sam has his arms around her. I take out my phone to snap yet another picture of them sleeping. They’re big nappers. I stare at them a minute. I need to get out of my hospital clothes and take a shower, so I leave them to it.

When I walk out of the bathroom, I find Sophie sitting on my bed.

“Hey, baby,” I kiss her crown. “You had a good nap with daddy?” I look for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

“I had a weird dream.” Sophie's voice has a strange tone to it. I sit by her side. Sometimes her dreams are pretty disturbing.

"What was it about?"

“I dreamt about a long thread.”

“What kind of thread?”

“It was red, like blood, and made of roots, like a tree. But it wasn't a tree.”

“Oh." Shit. Sophie's having nightmares again? "And what happened with this thread?”

“One end was wrapped around Daddy's heart." She frowns and goes quiet. I know something's definitely wrong now.

"And the other end?"

 

 

When I make a turn, I see Sam loading two boxes on the back of a car. I see Jess standing by. Good, she seems more relaxed now. I guess they had a good time. I walk up to them with a paper tray. I got everyone a coffee and a cookie.

“Hey, you,” Sam smiles broadly and I see Jess go stiff. OK, we get it. You don't like us.

“Sorry for the delay, I might have lost track of time at the music store.” I smile at Sam but I don't kiss him hello. I always kiss Sam hello, goodbye and every variation in the middle. I restrain myself.

“I got you a coffee and a cookie,” I turn to Jess with my Dick Roman trademark smile.

“Oh thanks, but I was just leaving.” She says playing with her car keys.

I hand her the coffee cup and the paper bag with the chocolate and ginger cookie.

“For the road,” I chime.

_Just take the damn cookie, Jessica._

Hesitantly, she takes both, smiles a really painful smile and says her goodbyes. She gets in the car and drives off like she’s running late. Or maybe she just wants to get away from us. And by us, I mean me.

 

 

 

“That was awkward,” Sam says.

“Hormones do that to you,” I shrug.

“What?” Sam jumped a bit. Ooops.

“So she didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He's freaked out a nodge.

“She's pregnant." With a boy. First of many, if I had to guess. She won't bring any more girls into this world.

“Oh.” He nods to himself. “Well, that actually makes sense.”

“How come?”

“Jess always wanted a big family. A few months before Sophie's death, we decided we wanted another child. We tried, but it didn't happen. After Sophie, I couldn't think about that. And, Jess was… I guess she felt like… I don't know…”

“Oh. Yeah, I get it.”

“And she said she tried to call, but I don't think she did.”

“Maybe she was nervous and didn't want to make plans in case she chickened out? I don't know. She wasn't expecting me, that's for sure.”

“Well, we don't keep in touch anymore.”

“So, how was it? Overall, I mean.”

“Awkward. But that's normal, I guess. She took a few boxes. There's not really much left of hers here.”

“Cool.” I hand him his cup of coffee. “What about the rest?”

“We'll be good to go in an hour or so. Did you really lose track of time?” Sam sips at his coffee and his face goes happy moose.

“Potato, potatoes. Here, have a cookie.”

“What did you get me?”

“Oatmeal and raising, grandpa,” I hand him the paper bag.

“Thank you,” he replies and steps closer. “I missed you,” he says leaning down to brush my lips.

“I missed you too,” I have to get on my tiptoes to actually kiss him. “Let’s wrap it up, shall we?”

“Yes, I need a shower.”

“Oh, wait to see Gabe's shower. You're in for a treat.”

Sam narrow his eyes suspiciously. He has no idea.

 

 

 

We left the Impala and the U-Haul at the parking lot of Gabriel's apartment building. I notice Dana greets the security employers and the doorman. She has her own set of keys. When we walk in, she turns off the alarm and then leaves her keys in a bowl, all with a very natural and automated gesture. Then she takes her shoes off and makes herself at home.

“Where should I leave these?” I gesture the bags as I take my shoes off.

“Bedroom, this way.” She leads the way. I watch her move around the space and I know for sure she used to live here. With Gabriel.

We walk into the bedroom and it doesn't look like the master bedroom. I leave our bags on the bed and I take a look around. This might not be the master bedroom, but it's not a guest room either. This is Dana's room.

She still lives here.

“How long did you live here?”

“About two years.” Of course she doesn't seem bothered. She takes off her shorts.

“How long were you a couple?”

“It wasn't like that.” She's out of her tee.

“Then how was it?”

“We’re just friends.” She takes her bra.

“Do you fuck all your friends?”

Something flickers through her gaze. First strike.

“Do you want to pick up a fight?” She grins wickedly as she takes a robe out of the closet.

“No, I just want to know what's the deal with you two.”

"We were roommates."

"Yeah, right." I don't believe that for one second.

She huffs and puts on the robe. Strike two.

“OK, Sammy. Here it is: Gabe and I used to be hunting buddies. Only instead of shooting animals, we fucked people for pleasure and fun. Sometimes it was a collaboration, sometimes a competition, sometimes it was just entertainment, depending on the mood. So yeah, in the heat of the moment, I might had sex with Gabriel a couple of times. That didn't mean we were in love or something, it was just how we rolled, that kind of thing. Do I consider it was unprofessional and inappropriate due to our work relationship? Yes, to some extent. But we were also friends, OK? I know I was a hot mess back then, and he was going through some shit as well, so yeah, things happened, mistakes were made. How do you think I got this cherry tattoo? Not my best moment, for sure. But it was just that, a moment in my life. Was it fun? You betcha. But as far as you’re concerned, Gabriel’s my friend and colleague, and yes, we love each other but not in a romantic way. It was never about romance between us if that's what you’re 'worry’ about. And that's the deal, Sam. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to take a shower. And no, you're not invited anymore. You dwell in it, bitch.”

Back on the bench.

 

 

 

Sam keeps doing this. He lashes out like an asshole. I know he's not, but he has these moments. I fucking hate him when he pulls the moral high ground on me like I care for those things.

I thought I had to worry about Dick, not about my mostly gay friend. _Do you fuck all your friends?_ Fuck you, Winchester.

I get a towel out of the lining closet and get ready for my bath time. This takes time, but it's totally worth it. Gabe was the one who introduced me to, among other things, the Immersed Bath Experience, as he likes to call it. His bathroom is the top shit. It has a multi shower head system combined with a massive shower head, so at least 5 people can shower together comfortably. We would know, we counted. I have a favorite setting. We called it _The Urban Jungle Experience_ , and combines a light rain like spray from the main head shower, a green and white light, a _pitanga_ based scent and sounds of the tropical forest. It's the absolute best. And I wanted to share it with Sam. Fuck.

I walk out of the bathroom. I find Sam sitting in the kitchen, having a beer. He jumps when he sees me.

“I really hate when you corner me and poke me like you're so fucking perfect, Sam. I feel like you're judging me for everything I've done. And I've done plenty of shit, so I'm in a perpetual disadvantage with you. And I don't like it. I don't like you when you look down on me.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel like that.”

“So you meant what you said?”

“No, I didn't mean that either.”

“So what the fuck then?”

“I don't know, I honestly don't know. I feel like such an asshole.”

“Well, you sure sound like one.” I stare at him. He wants to say something but he's not sure. “C'mon, spit it out!” Another way to encourage him to use his words.

“You still live here, Dee! That's not a guess room, that's _your_ room. And not your _old_ room, it's your _actual_ room.”

“So?”

“Seriously?”

“What? Did you _seriously_ think I would stay in a hotel every time I'd come here, which is once a month, when I can stay with my best friend who also happens to be my work colleague with whom I'm involved in numerous work related projects?”

“Could you try to see it from my side for one second?”

“No, because your side is STUPID!”

And the lights flicker.

Take five. I'm taking five.

Sam keeps looking around and I feel bad enough already. Shit.

“I'm sorry, Sam. Please, elaborate.” I'm calm. It's OK. I'm OK.

 

 _You're being scary_.

 

Sam's eye are focus like a laser. He's reaching out. Fuck.

“It’s OK, Sam. It's just the two of us. Please.” Sam blinks and he steps back down. His face is all like _where were we_ and I'm pretty sure mine is like _in the middle of a fight_.

“I’m sorry. I guess, I…  I feel like you're always about to leave. I thought with us moving together that feeling would go away; but it's still there, if only heavier. You have a home everywhere you go and I feel I'm just one of the many people who waits for you to come back so I can feel whole again. I mean, your Mom and Dad, your sister, your uncle, Charlie, obviously Gabe, and soon me. We all have an unpolluted place for you to stay whenever you decide to show up. And now, I'm going to move to Kansas with you, so you’ll have another place to crash. I know it's not really like that, but it feels that way. I mean, every time I'm not with you, Dee, I feel like I have a black hole right here in my gut. And now I'm going to live in a house with your undeniable and unbearable absence. Because, in case you didn't notice, your absence it's something really hard to deal with. Ask around. _That_ is the effect you have on people, Dee.”

Fuck.

Me.

Slow.

You. 

Smooth.

Son.

Of.

A.

Bitch.

I turn around and storm to the bathroom. “This is NOT over!” I yell before slamming the door shut.

What is he doing to me?

 

 

 

Dana is right. This is not over. But there's no other way for me to take a shower without her help. So, I call her.

"What?"

"Could you help me with the shower?"

She doesn't reply. No sassy remarks. No nothing. Wow, she's really mad at me.

I really need a shower. I'm about to give up when I hear her coming my way. She walks past by me and into the bathroom. I follow her and watch her go to the panel on the side.

"I can't believe there's a computer for the shower. Where did Gabriel get this?" I try to fill out the silence.

"Japan. He had the idea on one of his trips there and some friends over Noboribetsu Onsen help him with the design and constrution. That's a hot-spring area in Hokkaido. An hour and a half away from Sapporo, if you drive there. Hot-springs are a big thing in Japan. Everything is a _thing_ in Japan, if you think about it. 'Kay, there you go, your bath will be ready in ten minutes. You'll hear a beep."

She turns around and leaves.

"Thank you," I say to her back.

"Don't thank me yet," she closes the door behind her.

 

When I come out of the shower, I'm ready to build a monument to Gabe's idea. I get dress and I look for Dana. She's in the kitchen, taking a pizza out of the oven.

"Oh my God," I sigh. "That shower. I have never seen anything like that in my life."

She huffs. "I told you."

"Yes, you did."

"Makes you wonder what else you have been missing out, right?"

"Yeah, it does." I pause. "I didn't mean to pick up a fight. I freaked out and lashed out like an asshole. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"You know I don't care who did you sleep with, right? I don't care if it was sport fucking or otherwise. You have every right to do whatever you want, Dee. It's your body, your call, it's your desire or sex drive or whatever you want to call it and you should always do what you see fit. I have no intentions to judge you. I have no right to judge you. I want to be very clear about that. All I care about it's us. You and me, that's all that matters to me."

I watch her as she settles the table.

"Dee?"

"I heard you." 

"OK." 

She sighs.

"What you said about my living arrangements, I get it. And I don't really think your point of view is stupid. I just think we need to find a better way to deal with our baggage. Today was a stressful day, but I don't want you to worry about shit going down every time we get into a fight."

"I know."

"I really think we can figure things out together, as long as we respect each other and we're open and honest about how we feel."

"I think that too."

"So we are on the same page?"

"Yes, we are."

"Awesome. Get me a beer and let's eat, I'm starving."

 

 

 

I see the red binding thread between us and I can't help feeling like a hypocrite. Talking about being open and honest. I'm the worse. I don't deserve him. Fuck. What a mess.

 

 

 

Jessica checks her phone again. It's a little after two in the morning. She can't sleep but doesn't feel like getting up. She keeps mindlessly rubbing her womb. She thinks about the child she lost. She thinks about Sophie. She thinks about Sophie's strange dreams. Her words resonate in her mind.

 

"What about the other end, baby?"

"Something was holding it."

"Something like what?"

"Like the Boogie Man but older and more scary."

"You don't have to worry, baby. You know there's no such thing as the Boogie Man. It's just a bad dream."

"No, Mommy, it feels really real. Sometimes, if I concentrate enough, I can hear them talk, whisper about it."

"Hear them? Who's they?"

"Its kin, Mom. They're waiting for it to wake up. And you don't want to know what happens then..." Sophie chuckles humorlessly.

"Do you know what'd happen?"

"I'll be there with Dad."

"With Dad?"

"Yes, he's going to wake it up."

"What happens when it wakes up?"

"The end."

"The end?"

"The end of the world, Mom. The end of times."


	22. Good Ol'Times

“Was it really that boring?” Charles asks.

“What now?” Dana stares at her coffee.

“I saw you dozing off ten times through the service. Were you bored or otherwise?” Charles takes a bite of his bagel.

“Otherwise,” she offers an apologetically half smile.

“Well, thank you for coming anyways,” he smiles back. He can't really hide his preoccupation. A minute goes by in silence.

“This shit I'm taking, it's like being under water,” she takes a sip of her coffee.

“Does it work?” He searches for her gaze but she doesn't look up.

“Most of the time,” she ventures.

“And when it doesn't?”

She huffs and then moves her hair away from her shoulder, exposing the skin on the left side of her neck. There is a gruesome bruise stretching around, as the aftermath of being chocked. She lets her hair down again and readjusts her scarf.

Charles tries not to flinch. She keeps her gaze focused in her coffee but he sees the resignation in her eyes, the hopelessness in her features. Dana has become a ghost of her former self.

“Maybe we should try something else, something different." The endless argument. They went over this a million times over the last 30 years.

“That ship has sailed, Chuck,” she takes a long sip of coffee and gets back to her pancakes. They finish their breakfast in silence.

“Are you doing something on Thursday? We have a jam session over the… wait, I have a flyer over here somewhere,” he searches through his bag. “Here,” he takes out a paper and after a glance, he search for a pen. “This is from last month, but it's the same place, different time though,” he scribbles on the paper and hands it over to her. “You should come over. I'll have my guitar and there is this one guy with a banjo, you _have_ to hear him out. We can do some country song, maybe you could sing?” He's excited about it. "And there will be food, so, that's a plus.” Dana folds the paper in two and puts it in her pocket.

“Sure,” she says trying not to rain on his parade.

He hugs her tightly and doesn't let her go for a long time. Dana hugs him back. She knows he will never come to terms with the fact that there is no way around this. She knows he will never let her go. When the time comes, Charles will not make the call.

“Stay alive, kiddo,” he says finally breaking up the hug. “If I don't see you next Thursday, then I'll see you at Sunday Service.”

“Hmm-huh,” she says with an absolutely false conviction.

They parted ways. She knew Chuck was trying to figure out a way out of it. Obviously, he was only deluding himself. She, on the other hand, was not. Not anymore, at least. Yes, at first she honesty thought she could keep this up for a few more months, but soon enough she came to face the consequences of her poor judgement. It was Reckoning Day and it sucked. There was no way around it anymore: either she ended it herself or else. So, as she walked back to the hotel, she figured out that to put a bullet through her brain was actually a very good idea. She'll stop it altogether, by herself. The Darkness wouldn't find her if she was anywhere to be found.

 

Of course he wouldn't let her. Under any circumstances, he wouldn't let her die. He didn't crawled out of hell just to lose her. Thus, after tracking her down, which proved to be yet another Sisyphean task, he waited for her. He felt like it was actually an ambush, but desperate times required desperate measures, so all in all, he didn't have much of a choice.

 

In other circumstances, she would have felt him first. In her current state of mind, she couldn't have. So, first she saw him and then she felt him. She saw him and she had this colossal déjà vu. It was impossible. It was like looking into a mirror. He had he bluest eyes and the messiest dark hair she ever encountered. But she already knew that. He was beautiful in his own uncanny way. She saw him and she knew it was all over. Then she felt her head pounding, something inside of her burst like a volcano, shutting down her mind.

 

First, he felt her. She was in a really bad shape. Her mind was cluttered, fractured and plainly off. He could feel her power, raw and untamed. Then, he saw her. Yes, she was beautiful, but he couldn't pass the fact that she looked so broken, beaten up. Of course she wanted to give up, she was living an unbearable life. But all she had to do now was to give in. He saw the look on her face when she acknowledges his presence. It was a mix of fear, relive and acute awareness. He kinda freaked out when she passed out cold on the sidewalk, but he reached her just in time. He scooped her up in his arms and took her to the car.

 

 

 

“I'm not angry, how could I be angry with you?” He says with a bright smile. “Confused? Yes. Frustrated? Maybe. Angry? At you? Never.” He keeps his eyes on the road, casting a glance in her direction now and then. “But mostly and more important, I'm happy. I'm just so happy,” he takes his right hand off the wheel to lightly touch her forearm. He gives it a little squeeze. “Do you believe me?” He asks warmly.

“Yes, I believe you,” she says with a ragged breath.

“Then why are you crying?”

“I don't know,” she replies between sobs.

“I know, it's too much. And you are in a really bad shape. But don't worry, we will figure it out. We have time,” he smiles again, trying to comfort her.

 

 

 

They check in into a nice Bed and Breakfast somewhere along the way. She couldn't tell exactly where because she kept dozing off. How long he drove, what route he took, what time was it, she couldn't say either. He helps her get out of the car, and holds her hand all the way up to the front door, which he opens for her. She watches him interact with the old man, exchange pleasantries, pay upfront and in cash, ask him if he could recommend some good delivery. Then they walk up to their room. He places the bags on the bed, takes out his coat, scarf and boots, and walks around, checking out the room.

“This is nice,” he says casually. She is petrified a foot away from the door. “What is it?” He cuts the distance between them. He cups her face with both hands, trying to meet her gaze. “God, you are shaking, are you cold?” He sounds so concerned.

“I don't feel so good,” she says in a whisper.

“Let's get you out of these clothes. I'll prepare a bath, your muscles must be sore. Sit on the bed; I'll get the water ready.” She does as he asked and sits on the bed and waits. He comes back after a moment and helps her out of her coat. He takes her shoes off, then her oversized sweater, her plaid, and her socks. He hesitates for a second. “Do you need help with your pants?” He asks shyly. When he looks up, she's staring at him. “What?” He tilts his head to the side.

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?”

“This,” she motions the space between them. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn't I?” He retorts.

“I thought… I thought you…,” she trails off.

“You though what?” He chuckles and then sighs. “I'm going to check the tub; you come in when you are ready. Let me know if you need help.” He takes a toiletry bag from one of the leather bags and walks into the bathroom. She unbuttons her jeans and gets out of them with some effort. Down to her underwear and tank top, she follows him. He was crouching by the tub, checking the water. “I hope you don't mind, I add some neroli and rose oil to the water.” He stands up and faces her. He's taken aback by the sight. He gapes.

It’s her turn to ask _what_.

“You are so beautiful,” he says in awe. He draws near. His gaze is like a caress. He tilts his head and smiles fondly. He's about to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he bites his bottom lip. “I’m gonna leave you to it, then,” he finally says but neither of them moves.

“I’m still medicated; I can’t stay alone in a tub. I’ll drown,” she explains matter of fact.

“Did it happen before?”

“Yes. Grad school,” her tone doesn’t change.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies sincerely.

“I though you knew.”

“Well, you have a _long_ history flirting with Death. I wasn't always aware of the circumstances; I had more of a general idea.”

“Huh,” she adds lost in thoughts.

He reaches for her left arm. “This, however,” he traces the almost invisible vertical scar on her forearm with the tip of his fingers. “I was very much aware of all of it.” He leans in and kisses softly the inside of her wrist. She shivers.

“Yes, that was a stupid thing to do,” she sighs after a minute. He's still holding her by the wrist.

“You didn’t know.”

“I think it’s quite the opposite, actually.”

He beams at her.

He turns away and she takes off her tank top. He lowers the toilet lid and sits there. She takes of her underwear and gets in the tub. The water is hot and it takes her a minute to finally stop shaking. Her muscles are sore, her neck is stiff, her knees hurt.

“Do you feel like going out or do you want to order some food?” He asks reaching for his phone.

“I’m not hungry,” she leans back.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember.”

“I’ll order something. The owner said there is a Chinese Deli a few blocks away, I could do a quick run after you are done.”

“Sure.”

She dives and stays down for a long minute. She gets back up, feeling somewhat better. The tub is a free-standing one, so there is no soap niche. She looks around for the shampoo.

“Can you hand me the shampoo, please?” There is a little basket with products on the auxiliary table by the toilet. He looks for the right bottle and walks towards her. He stands by the tub for a split second, and then kneels down.

“Do you mind?” He's a little bit flustered.

“What?” 

“Can I wash your hair?” He asks quietly.

“Do you want to?” She replies hesitating.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

She shrugs and sits up. He rolls up his sleeves, takes some shampoo in his palm and carefully applies it. He gently moves his fingers, massaging her scalp in the process. She has her eyes closed and accompanies his movements with ease.

“We used to do this,” she breaks the silence first.

“Yes, all the time,” he hums.

“It feels nice,” she admits with a grin.

He rinses the shampoo tilting her head back. He applies some conditioner and keeps massaging her head in the meantime. Another rinse. She is practically asleep by the time he finishes.

“You should step out, the water is getting cold.”

“Ok,” she complies but she doesn’t move.

He fetches a towel, and stands by the tub with the towel spread in front of him. She stands up with some difficulty and steps out of the tub. He wraps the towel around her and takes another one to dry her hair.

“I’ll bring you something clean, wait here.” He steps out of the bathroom and takes one of his t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs out of his bag. He comes back and watches her dry off. He hands out the boxers first and then the t-shirt. She looks amazing in his clothes.

“I don’t think you’ll make it till dinner,” he chuckles. "You're already asleep.”

She smiles and yawns in response.

“Did you pack a tooth brush?”

“Yeah, it’s in the toiletry bag over there.”

“Cool.”

He steps out again, and gets the bed ready. She steps out of the bathroom and walks up to the bed. She climbs in and he tucks her up.

“Are you OK?” He asks turning on the night stand.

“Yeah, but I need… I need my sleeping pills."

“You are already half way there,” he turns off the room light.

“Yeah, but… I need them anyways….,” she shuffles a little.

“We will discuss it in the morning. I think you are done for tonight.”

She attempts to say something, maybe to refute him, but instead she sighs and turns to her side. “OK,” she says in a whisper. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight."

He sat down on the couch and watched her sleep for almost an hour. She didn’t move at all. Then he decided that he could use a shower too. After that, he made a quick run to the Deli and ordered some spring rolls and Chow Mein. He didn’t want to stink up the room, so he ate in the dinner room downstairs. When he made his way back to the room, she was in the exact same position. He brushed his teeth, put on his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and climb to bed next to her. She was facing him so he turned to his side to face her as well. However, he kept his distance. It was she who slowly moved closer, into his personal space, into the warmth of his body. He tried to stand still.

She opened her eyes only half way.

“Will you keep them at bay?” She asks him with a sleepy voice. “They are so loud.”

“Of course,” he reassures her.

“Thank you,” she smiles. He smiles back. She leans closer. He mirrors the movement. Their noses are almost touching. He tries not to give in.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says taking a deep breath.

“I’d like that." He moves forward, pressing his lips softly on hers. It’s a chaste kiss. That would have to do for now. After all, they have plenty of time to get reacquainted with each other.

“I thought you died in a fire,” she mumbles sometime later. He reaches out for her hand and takes it to his lips.

“Almost,” he replies, kissing her knuckles.

 

 

 

_Yesterday, upon the stair,_

_I met a man who wasn't there!_

_He wasn't there again today,_

_Oh how I wish he'd go away!_

_When I came home last night at three,_

_The man was waiting there for me_

_But when I looked around the hall,_

_I couldn't see him there at all!_

_Go away, go away, don't you come back any more!_

_Go away, go away, and please don't slam the door..._

_Last night I saw upon the stair,_

_A little man who wasn't there,_

_He wasn't there again today_

_Oh, how I wish he'd go away..._

 

 

 

“CAS!” She yells his name over and over again.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he tries to sooth her. She wakes up with a jolt and sits up on the bed, the nightmare still clinging to her. “I’m here, it’s OK.” He's sitting by her side.

“For fuck sake,” she gasps for air. “That shit felt real,” she tries to shake it off.

“It probably was."

“Not really helping, dude,” she nudges him.

“I really don't understand your insistence on calling me _dude_ ,” he points out narrowing his eyes.

“Shut up, dude,” she teases him. “What time is it?”

“Around three.”

“Fucking witching hour,” she can’t stop shivering.

“Are you cold?” He rubs her arms.

“No, I’m just freaked out. I think he is onto us."

“Oh, he is. Don’t try to run, let him come. We’ll smite him."

“You sound so hot when get all vengeful,” she lies back down.

“You said the same thing when I was doing laundry,” he lies back down.

“Yeah, and I stand by it. Would you hold me, please?"

“Of course,” he gets in the big spoon position. “I got you." He pets her hair.

“You are so warm,” she whispers wiggling under the covers.

“Yes, we already established that,” he deadpans and she chuckles.

“The worst part is you’re not even trying to be funny,” she nudges him.

“Please stop fiddling,” he tightens his embrace.

“I’m just trying to get comfortable."

“How’s rubbing your rear against my dick helping you?” This time, she laughs out loud.

“Sorry, Cas.”

“Apology accepted. Now, go back to sleep,” he commands. Dana strains her head around to look into his sleepy eyes. He leans in and kisses her forehead. She fights out of his arms to turn around and face him. “Please stop moving,” he admonishes her. Dana leans in for another kiss, but this time she takes control of it. She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him in. She teases him with her tongue and she can feel him smiling.

“Stop that,” he says trying to sound serious.

“What?” She plays dumb and slides her hand to the back of his head and bury her fingers in his messy hair. She kisses him, deep and wet.

“That,” he breaks the kiss and reaches for her hand to move it away.

“Really, Cas?”

“Really,” he kisses her knuckles and then places her hands on his chest.

“Why?” Her frustration is palpable.

“Because we are not alone,” Castiel replies and feels how her body goes cold and stiffens. He snuggles closer and whispers. “It’s OK; they’ll be gone in the morning.”

“Fucking witching hour,” she rests her head on his chest and wraps her arms around him.

“I don’t blame them; you’re a sublime singularity to behold,” he plants a kiss on the crown of her head. “And besides, they fear you more than anything.” She looks up to meet his gaze.

“Really?” She sounds bewildered.

“Definitely, don’t you hear them?” He asks smiling.

“No, and why are you smiling?” She is puzzled.

“I find very amusing how oblivious you are to your true nature,” he titled his head to the side. “When faced with the divine, the human soul either thrives or withers,” he adds.

“Am I thriving?”

“No, _they_ are." He smiles again and leans in for a chaste kiss.

His steady breathing, the warmth of his body, the weight of his arms around her and the devotion emanating from his whole persona renders her back to a deep and dreamless slumber.

 

 

 

 

 

“Well, I'm not Sam,” Castiel says as she storms out of the house.

“Oh, really? I haven't noticed!” Dana slams the door and begins marching to the woods. He follows her.

“Apparently, you don't. Where are you going?”

Dana stops in her tracks and turns around to meet his eyes.

“Away from you!” She barks.

“Why are you mad at me? I should be the one offended by fact that you keep reaching out to your boyfriend.”

“Then _be_ offended, Cas! Get mad! Do something!” She pushes him. “You want me but you don't want me. You keep making excuses to turn me down. You keep rejecting me, and then you bring up Sam like he's a problem between us?”

“He is a problem between us.”

“Why? Because I care about what happens to him? Well, newsflash, buddy, you don't stop caring about the people you love! It doesn't work like that!” Dana pushes him again, but Castiel doesn't move. She's provoking him.

“I'm very aware of how much you love him. I was there too, remember? I was always there. I watched you bed all your lovers. I watched you fall in love with Joanna. I was there when she was taken from you. I was there when your pain was so overwhelming that you decided to take your own life and I was there to bring you back. I was there, Dana, the whole time. I watched as you felt for Sam and everything started again. I've been here for you the whole time, where were you?” Castiel never raised his voice nor lost his temple.

“I'm here now, Cas.” Dana whispers.

“That’s why you keep telling, but you’re not. Not really, not completely. You keep holding on to what you were and you get mad at me for pointing it out,” Cas turns away and walks back to the house. And Dana panics. He's going to leave her alone. She can't be alone.

“Cas! Wait!” She yells and the world around her tips over.

 

 

 

All I can see it's fire. Castiel wings are burning and I'm horrified by the fact that he keeps fighting to get to me.

 

 

 

“Cas?”

I wake up. I think I'm in my room. My throat is parched. I cough.

“Here, have some water.” Cas emerges from the shadows of the corner with a glass in his hand.

“What was that?” My voice sounds crooked and harsh.

“Memories.” He helps me sit up and I drink that water like I haven't drink in ages. I notice my hands are covered in soot.

“How did this happen?” I'll have to do the laundry tomorrow.

“I think you panicked. Maybe it works like a trigger. Get back to sleep, you need to rest.”

“OK.” I lie down and I'm already out.

 

 

 

Castiel is debating on whether he should stay with her or go downstairs and carry on with the rest of the day. They're so loud, there's no way they're going to let her sleep without interruptions.

Dana shuffles with a frown.

“Shut. Up.” She commands.

And the world around them goes quiet.

He smiles.

“Good girl,” he whispers before kissing her forehead.

 

 

“I hate when we fight.” I sit down by his side at the patio and hand him a coffee mug.

“You hate to be antagonized.” He takes the mug and keeps his eyes on a distant point on the horizon.

“That too. Do you like here? We could go somewhere else.” I try to change the subject.

“I see you’re trying to change the subject, Dana. However, I do enjoy this place. It's a powerful spot. Do you know who's the woman walking through the woods?”

“Sorry, what now?”

“There's a woman walking through the woods, right over there,” Case points out in the direction he was looking. I don't see anything. I stand up and take a few steps to the end of the patio. I still don't see anything but I sense a familiar presence.

“Well, that's not my grandma. I just saw her upstairs.” I turn around and look up to the second floor windows. Yep, there's Hilda alright. I wave and she waves back. I love my grandma Hilda. I turn around again and face the woods. Yes, there's someone there. I take a few more steps, and then I  begin walking towards the woods. In a second, Cas is beside me.

“I'm sorry, Cas.” I let go a weary sigh.

“I know.” He doesn't look at me, his eyes are still locked on the presence beyond. Suddenly, he grabs me and steps in front of me. He's shielding me. Aw.

“What is it?” I try not to sound so happy about this parenthesis in the ice treatment he professing me. He takes several steps back and pushes me along.

“What is it, Cas?” I'm grabbing the back of his shirt.

“Uh, I'm not sure.” He says and turns around to meet my eyes. Yes, eye contact! He tilts his head to the side. “You are enjoying this.”

“Not point denying.” I shrug.

“I think I saw something on the grass.” He turns around again.

“Where?”

“Over there,” he points out. I try to get past him and he grabs my elbow. And something inside me snaps. I make the move, the one Bobby taught me so many years ago. And it scares me how deeply wired it is in me. Cas is taken aback. The look on his face, ohmygod.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't, please don't do that, it's not, I--I'm sorry.” I'm ranting with my hands up. Cas is about to say something when his eyes go wider as he looks down. So I look down and I find a big black snake crawling at my feet.

“Hey there, buddy,” I say leaning down to pick him up. “What are you doing here?” He's heavy and sturdy. I take him to my chest, like I would pick up a cat, but this guy isn't a cat, so he climbs up to my neck. His tongue tickles and I laugh. I know who's out there. I turn around and I see the Wicked Woman peeking out behind a tree.

“Hey, sister. How are you?” I wave at her and she smiles. “Is this for me?” I ask and she replies with a silent nod. “Thank you!” She smiles again and melts back into the shadows. “It's a gift,” I turn around to look at Cas. His expression is priceless.

“I see,” he says. “And what are your plans with it?”

"Well, I'm gonna keep him around. Who knows? Maybe I can teach him a trick or two."

"You hate snakes."

"Not in this lifetime, buddy."


	23. Wayward Sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I get to get some fluff going on.  
> 

Dana stepped outside to take the call and have a smoke in the meantime, of course, but it wasn't more than ten minutes top. When she walks back inside Anna's already dozing off.

"I just remembered Mom called earlier, told me to call her when you have the chance."

"What did she want?"

"To talk to you, dumb dumb."

"Scooch, smart pants. We are never going to finish that movie, are we?" Dana sits down by her side and takes her feet on her lap.

"Endings are overrated." She growls with pleasure when her sister starts working on her sore feet.

"How are you feeling?"

"For the tenth time, Dee, I'm OK. Just tired. It's perfectly normal when you're pregnant and the baby sucks all your stamina. You don't need to worry."

"Jezz, sorry I ask."

Anna nudges her with her foot.

"How's Gabe?"

"Good. You know, balls deep into a something sketchy, as usual."

"What did he want?"

"Just checking in."

"Right. What was it, like, ten hours since you were together?"

"Oh c'mon."

"I didn't say anything."

"Here we go..."

"But if I were to say something..."

"And there it is..."

"I'm just saying. You're not a couple, Dee. Stop acting like one. And get a real one."

"You said the same thing about Richard, Nana."

"No, I said Richard wants to marry you. And maybe you should give it a try."

"Right. Because dating the big boss is such a great idea. No, thanks. I'll rather call my roommate every day."

"No, I meant you should date someone who likes you and Gabe isn't your roommate anymore."

"Fine, I still rather talk to my friend everyday. Besides, I date plenty."

"I don't think what you do qualifies as dating. Besides, I just want you to be happy, Dee."

"Happiness is overrated."

"Don't do that."

"Did I hurt you?" She stops moving her hands.

"No, not that. Keep doing that. I meant don't try to joke your way out."

"Ugh, and put a stick up my ass? I think I'll pass. Well, maybe not."

"You're such a jerk."

"A jerk who's paying for your babymoon, so I think you should show me some respect. _Besides,_ I already have a shrink, so spear me the embarrassing moment, Dr. Phil."

"Fuck off, Dee." Anna puts her foot directly on her sister face. "I just want you to be happy. Don't you think you deserve that?"

Dana bites her foot which makes Anna squeak with laughter. 

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Dana resumes the massage and soon her sister falls asleep. She decides it's a good time to catch up with some sleep so she proceeds to cuddle next to her and her prominent belly.

 

 

Balthazar wakes her up with a grin. She rubs her sleepy eyes and gets up carefully, not to wake up Anna. 

"Do you need a ride?" He asks in a hush.

She nods and yawns. "Meet you in the car." 

She nods again.

"Banana, I'm leaving," she kisses her temple. "Balt is driving me home."

"M'kay. Tell him to bring pie."

"Will do. Love you."

"You better."

 

 

"I thought you quit," she says climbing into the black SUV. 

"I did. This is helping me with the transition," he shakes the vape in his hand as he smiles at his phone.

"Transition to what exactly? Fancy dildos?" Dana stretches and then gets the seatbelt. He chuckles.

"You would know, wouldn't you." He laughs and shows her his phone. "Look at this. Pure gold." He took a picture of Anna and her napping on the couch. It's a lovely picture but Balthazar add a ton of embarrassing GIFs and stickers.

"You're such a weird voyeur."

"That's pretty much my job description." He takes back the phone. "I think this one will bring me a win this year."

"You will never beat Bobby in shorts."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"You keep telling yourself that, buddy. In the mean time, I'll buy real cigarettes with all that money coming my way."

"Ha! Like your sister would allow that!"

"True enough."

 

 

After she gets back home, she takes a quick shower and then calls her mom. She picks up after the second ring.

"Hello, pumpkin."

"Hey, Mama Bear, what's up?"

"Oh, nothing much. Did you have a good nap?"

"I told him it wouldn't beat Bobby in shorts." Dana begins to unpack her suitcase.

"You haven't seen mine yet."

"You say that every year."

"You'll be surprised. What are you doing tonight?"

"I have a conference call, so I'm heading to the office after dinner."

"Please, don't overwork yourself. You _just_ got back."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't need to worry about me." She tosses the laundry into a pile.

"That's the same thing your sister says to you and do you ever stop worrying?"

" _Touché_. So, what are you up to?"

"Well, I got call from Pamela. She wanted to know if you would be willing to help her with something."

"I'm listening." She puts aside the clothes she'll have to take to the dry cleaner.

"There's this young man back in Lawrence who seems to have a situation on his hands and could really use your help."

"What kind of situation?"

"A complex one."

"And Pam can't handle it?" She goes through the various items left inside with the speed given by sheer practice.

"No, she said it's out of her league."

"That kind of thing, huh?"

"Apparently, yes. So, would you like to help?"

"Does the young man have a name?"

"Uhm. Wait, I think... Yes, Winchester."

Dana drops the phone. 

"Dana? You there?"

"Sorry... What was that?"

"Sam Winchester? He's a police officer back in Lawrence. He's working along with Jody Mills. I think you met Jody a couple of times, she's the County Sheriff."

_Holy shit._

She looks at her finger. It's still there alright.

"What? What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"Nothing sounds like nothing, Mom."

"Right. What should I tell Pamela then?"

"Tell her to call me."

"You sure?"

"Please don't make it awkward." Dana takes the clothes to the laundry room.

"I'm not."

"Yeah, right. Listen, just tell her to call me and we'll take it from there. I need to eat something before heading back to the office."

"Fine, but Robert wants to talk to you."

"Sure, put him on." She loads the washer. Whites first.

"Darling, it's Dana. Talk to later, Pumpkin."

"Bye, mom."

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey Bobby, what's up?" She sets the machine and gets it running.

"Well, I got your email."

"And? What do you think?" She gets back to the bedroom. She prepares the clothes she'll take to the dry cleaners on her way to the office tomorrow.

"I looks good, so how bad is it?"

"The engine sounds way out of tune and the transmission is busted. The upholstery and the interior needs to be replaced but the bodywork doesn't seem to be that bad. I mean, you really won't know until you gut it but I have a good feeling about this truck." She goes back to the kitchen.

"That's all I needed to know. Just send me the contact details and I'll do the rest."

"Great, because I think I already have a buyer." She opens the fridge and scans for leftovers.

"Already? Really?"

"Yes, there's this guy in the California branch who has a kind of farm going on and he could use the muscle and the style." Most things had gone bad. Yuck.

"Well, let me get the car first."

"Sure, Bobby. Talk to you later?"

"Sure thing. Have a good night, honey."

"Bye, love you."

"Love you too." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Holy. Fucking. Shit._

Dana stares at her phone. She'll have to grab a bite on her way to the office.

_If it isn't the complete predictable outcome of my poor choices._

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Where to?" Rowena asks behind the wheel.

"Can you drop me first?" Dana says in the backseat. She's making funny faces to her nephew as she makes sure he's properly strapped.

"Can we talk about your _fellow friend_ , Mom? Like, what's going on there?" Anna gets her seatbelt.

"Maybe you should ask your sister." Rowena raises her brow and points to the backseat. Dana sits straight and fumbles with her seatbelt. Anna turns around with her eyes wide open. 

"Ohmygod! Are you tapping that?"

"She wishes." Rowena checks the mirrors and starts making their way out of the parking lot. 

Anna looks at her mother and back at her sister.

"Dee, what's going on?" 

Dana shrugs.

"We were just talking."

"You should have seen her. Playing cool and all. She had the eye on him since she _heard_ about him."

"That's not true!"

"And here's a plot twist: Sam is Pam's friend. That's how he arrived to our doorstep."

"Pam as is Pamela Barnes?"

"The one and only."

"Mom!"

"So Pam and you are back or something?"

"Back to what?" Dana scolds.

"Talking, for starters. And we all had dinner after Sam's visit. Just like the old times."

"Red! Stop feeding fakes news!"

"Why am I hearing about this just now?" Anna looks at her mother then back at her sister. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"There was nothing to tell! And you were having a baby, for the love of God!"

"Well, baby is out."

"The cat's out too." Rowena chuckles.

"Mom! Cut it out!" Dana barks as she blushes.

"Ohmygod, she really likes him."

"I told you."

"But, Dee, he's a cop. You don't like cops!"

"A couple of encounters with the law enforcement and suddenly I shot the sheriff."

"And they don't like you either." 

"Well, this one is the exception. After his first visit, he dropped by the house. Your dad and I were here with you, but Dana was there to greet him. And he stayed all weekend."

"HE WHAT!?"

"Wow! Wait a minute! _I_ only stayed because _you_ told _me_ Missouri couldn't make it and _you_ were waiting for a big supply delivery."

"Mom, she's doing the pronouns things."

"AND he came because he had insomnia. I just helped him get some sleep, nothing more. I didn't touch him."

"Whatever you did, it surely worked. He's been dropping by the store almost every week."

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

" _I_ thought _you_ told _me_ it was _nothing_."

"Hey, look at me! Hey!" Anna snaps her fingers to get Dana's attention. "You _like_ like him. Mom, she _likes_ likes him."

"I know."

"Shut up."

"Oh, Dee! That's so cute!"

"Ok, that's enough. I'm out of here." Rowena stops the car and Dana kisses her nephew's little hands.

"I'm sorry I have to leave you with these looney toons, Hunter. I know, they're crazy. _Crazy_! Don't believe a word they say, alright?" She planters a soft kiss on his forehead and slides out of the car. 

"No gossip behind my back!" She closes the door and makes a few steps and Anna rolls down her window. 

"Bye, Dee! Thanks for lunch!"

Dana turns around to see Anna making funny kissing faces and flips her off.

They watch her go through security and into the building. Rowena starts making their way to Anna's house.

"She really likes him," Anna ponders at loud after a minute.

"I think she met him before."

"What? Why?"

"A hunch. She's been acting weird. She acted weird when I mentioned his name. And she was really jumpy when we were expecting him the first time."

"Dana? Nervous? Really?"

"Yep, she practically raided the liquor cabinet."

"Shit, mom! She shouldn't be drinking! Why did you let her?"

"Please, Anna, like she gives a shit. Besides, she told me she hadn't had her medication that day."

"Mom! What the hell?"

"What? She told me she doesn't need to take it every single day."

"And you believed her?"

"Of course not. But she believes it, so that's fine by me. And she stayed home. We were all there."

"I don't like this."

"She's a big girl, Annie. It's call free will."

"Screw free will, I just want her to be safe."

"You should have seen her, she was really sharp. Sam was in a tough spot, and she pulled him right through like it was nothing."

"So she helped him?"

"Yes."

"Did she do it because you asked or because it was Pam's friend?"

"I think she did it for Sam. At least, that's the impression I had. That's not what she'll tell you, of course."

"That's weird."

"Aha. And Missouri picked up something too, that's why she told me to tell her to be at the house that weekend."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know. But I'll bet he will be sitting on our table by Thanksgiving."

"You don't think this is just Dana being Dana?"

"No, this is something more."

"Hmm. What about Sam?"

"Oh, he's so much more!"

"He's sure tall and handsome."

"He has great hair too."

"So shiny and wooosh wooosh..."

"So much wooosh!"

"Dana's gonna eat him alive."

"Samuel's a fighter. He'll put up a fight."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Wanna bet?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Look who's here!" Anna opens the door with Hunter on her arms.

"Hey, guys! I brought pie!" Dana's waves the bag infront of them.

"That's a good opening line!" Anna looks tired and wore out. She lets her sister in; Dana takes her coat off and her shoes and follows them to the kitchen.

"How is he feeling today?"

"He's still a little warm and cranky. And he freaks out when I'm not holding him, so we've been glued all day."

Dana gets the kettle on and takes the pie out of the bag. 

"Tell me is one of Dorothy's," Anna's tone is hopeful.

"Of course it is, I don't cheat." She fetches the plates and take a slice out of the box. She hands it to her sister.

"Would you hold him for a second?"

Dana frowns.

"For fuck's sake, Dana, just hold him. It's not a big deal!"

"Dude! Language!"

"Just take the baby and give me a fork! Or I swear to God I'll eat it with my face!"

"Wow! I'll give you the fork _after_ you give me the baby, you crazy woman!"

Dana puts the fork down on the table and Anna hands her the baby.

"Hey there, tiny human," Hunter wiggles a little and complains but settles down on her aunt's chest. "Your mom is a little cra-cra for pie, huh? You're right, she's just bananas, yes, she is!"

Anna takes a bite at the pie and moans.

"Dorothy is the freaking best!" She goes over to the kettle and prepares the tea pot. Dana begins walking around the kitchen, humming and lightly patting Hunter's back.

Anna sets the pie, the tea pot and two cups on the kitchen table.

"He likes you. I don't understand why you're so squeamish about holding him."

"I'm not been squeamish, I'm being careful."

"You're not going to hurt him, Dee."

"I'm not worry about me."

"Here, have some tea."

"Thanks. Were you able to work at all today?"

"Not really, but that's OK. I guess I'll catch up later when Balt gets here."

"They should give him a paternity leave or something. It's not fair."

"Well, it's not RoMaN EntErPriSeS," Anna does her questionable Forest Gump impression.

"Just say he word, Forest. You know there's enough Dick to go around."

"Ugh. I know. I read that article on The Economist on your health insurance and benefits."

"You and half of the country. We had like 60.000 applications that week."

"What? For real?"

"Yep, for real."

"It's a really good article for you guys. Not so much for the rest of the companies, but that's only fair."

"That's what everyone keeps saying. I told Richard he should go on National Television. That should ruffle some feathers upstairs."

"Forget the Senate. With those Christmas bonus he's handing he could recruit enough people to start a religion or a cult."

"I know! Remind me to send you some funny memes Charlie found! Hey, should I put him down?"

"We can try that, but I don't think it will work. He likes to be hold, I don't know."

"Let's give it a try, then."

Dana takes Hunter to the nursery and puts him down on the crib. The baby monitor is right next to it and Dana checks if it's on. They should be able to hear him if he wakes up.

She kisses his forehead lightly and stares at him for a minute. When he doesn't cry and remains asleep, she walks out of the room.

 

 

The baby monitor clicks a couple of times. 

The Swamp Girl steps closer and leans over the crib.

She takes one of her skinny finger and lightly touches the place where Dana kissed the boy. Hunter stirs a little but remains asleep.

The little girl whispers something and then she takes her finger and places it gently on the baby's lips. Hunter opens his mouth a little and instinctly sucks at her finger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"If I knew it was that easy, I've have called you sooner," Anna is almost through the first slice of pie. "Balt has the touch too. Everyone can put him to sleep except me. I feel like such a loser."

"Nana, you know it's not like that. And I'm sorry, I just made it here last night."

"I know." She sighs. "I don't want to talk about my insecurities right now. So, tell me, how was your trip?"

"Stressful but totally worthy. We have almost seven prototypes running. It's exhilarating."

"I have no idea what are you talking about, but you look taned."

"It was hot and sunny."

"That's not all. You look different."

"Don't hoard the pie."

"Don't change the subject."

"Just want a piece of pie."

"You'll get the pie after you tell me."

"Anna, I think you need to get some sleep for real, you're acting crazy. More than usual, that is."

"I guess I'll keep this, then."

"You're such a bitch sometimes."

"This is a really good pie."

"Fine! I got a date."

"Aha! I knew it! When?"

"A couple of weeks ago, actually. Before I left."

"Wait, wait. That weekend you went AWOL?"

"Well, yeah. It turned out to be a long date."

"You mean a fuck fest?"

"Now you sound just like Gabe."

"Was it Pam? It was Pam! Oh my God!"

"No, for fuck's sake! It wasn't Pam! You sound just like Mom. What's your deal with Pam? Maybe you should date her or something." 

"Not Pam, got it. So who was it?"

"Sam Win---"

"SAM WINCHESTER!?"

"Yep."

"You finally tapped that."

"Understatement."

"So, wait, how was it? Like, you asked him out?"

"No, he asked for my number at the soup joint. And then he asked me out later that day. We went to Rocky's for dinner on Friday. One thing led to another and he stayed over. And I did touch him. A lot."

"He stayed all weekend?"

"Yeah."

"In your house?"

"Yes, why?"

"You really _really_ actually _like_ like this guy."

"You know what? We have an awesome chemistry in the sack, so I guess we'll see."

Anna grins widely and hands her a piece of pie.

"You earned it. Now I want details."

"Then go grab us a drink."

"I'm breastfeeding."

"Grab _me_ a drink and watch?"

"Jerk."

"A jerk with a lot of hot details."

"Damnit!" Anna stands up and goes to the fridge. She hesitates. "How hot are the details?"

Dana clicks her tongue. "Burning hot."

"One beer, that's all, you hear me?" Anna takes a bottle out. "With a twist?" She turns around with a lemon on her hand. Dana wiggles her eyebrows. "Shit!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What did I tell you?" Rowena whispers in Anna's ear.

"Damnit," Anna replies eyeing Sam sitting at the breakfast nook. He's talking to Balthazar while Bobby plays with Hunter. "She told me he was going to visit his family."

"His flight got cancelled because of the weather."

"Right," Anna fetches a 20 out of her bag.

"Mama knows best," Rowena takes the bill and puts it in the jar above the fridge.

"Where is she?"

"Outside with your uncle."

When Anna approaches the table she hears Sam talking about Balthazar's work and knows for sure he already won him over. Then she notices how Hunter is weaving at Sam and knows for sure Sam's a keeper. 

"Hey, Dad." She kisses Bobby. 

"Hey, honey."

"Hey Sam, how are you?"

"Hi Anna," he stands up to greet her and Anna smiles.

"Nana, Sam remembers my Bush portraits," Balt's smile couldn't be brighter. "That's how we met, back in New York."

"I was just telling him that I went to that show with Jess."

"Who's Jess?" Anna asks.

"His ex-wife," Dana replies behind her making her jump.

"Jesus Christ, Dana!" She turns around and slaps her on the shoulder. "Don't do that!" Dana grins and sticks her tongue out. Then she kisses her cheek and hugs her.

"We should get her bell," Fergus says behind them. "Or one of those things that belly dancers wear."

"Like Shakira," Balthazar snaps her fingers.

"You get it, I'll wear it." Dana shrugs and steps aside so everyone can greet everyone one. Hunter goes from one set of arms to another, until he finally makes his way to Sam. And Sam starts glowing. And then Anna catches her sister staring at Sam while Sam makes funny faces to Hunter and Hunter giggles like crazy and she knows. She knows her sister is in love. 

 

* * *

 

"OK, everyone. It's time!" Rowena chimes. We are having coffee in the living room after the big meal we enjoyed. Bobby brings the basket that was sitting on the kitchen with what looks like wrapped frames. I remember seen one on Dana's closet and I noticed she put it in the basket when we arrived.

"Sam, you are about to be part of our own Thanksgiving tradition. This year's theme was stealthy pictures of moments we are grateful for. The winner will pick up next year's theme. All winners are exhibit on our own Hall of Fame, gets all the money in the bet jar and the right to brag all year long until next Thanksgivings. We've been hearing Dana for over three years now, so please people, we need a win." 

Dana turns to me. "They can't handle my awesomeness."

"Alright, I'll take them out and we can all vote once I'm done. You too, Sam." Rowena takes the first frame and unwrappes it. She looks at it and then slaps Bobby on the shoulder. Bobby smiles and leans for a kiss.

"Get a room you two!" Balthazar yells and throws a cushion at them.

"Shut up, you idjit," Bobby says.

"Here's Robert's picture." Rowena turns around to shows us. It's a beautiful picture and it looks like it was taken at the hospital, after Hunter was born. Anna looks exhausted and Rowena looks really proud. They are both crying and laughing as the hold the Hunter all bundle up. I think we all went _awww_.

"Good job, Bobby!" Fergus congratulates him with the baby on his shoulder. Anna stands up and goes to her parents. They kiss and hug and there's another round of awwws.

"Alright, next one is Dana's," Rowena rolls her eyes, Fergus and Balthazar boo and Dana flips them off.

"Damn it!" Rowena makes a resignation face. She turns the frame around and everyone goes _damnit_. 

"How do you do it!?" Fergus hisses, Balthazar throw his arms up and Bobby laughs out loud.

"Suck it, losers!" Dana makes finger guns out to everyone.

It's a beautiful black and white picture of Anna and Balt sitting on the floor, facing each other as they are going through baby's clothes. They are surrounded by presents, must be the baby shower. Balt is showing Anna a cute koala onesie as he laughs and she has both hands on her face like she couldn't believe how cute it is. The light is just right. They are both glowing as they're making intense eye contact with each other. Heart eyes, that's the word.

Dana stands up to kiss her sister, and Anna slaps her on the shoulder. Dana pretends to be offended for a second.

"I hate you," Anna says before bringing her to a tight hug. "You totally got me with that onesie"

"And you took the bate," Dana laughs.

"Alright, let's move on," Rowena hands her the frame to Bobby and he places it next to the first one on top of the TV table. "Next one is mine," she unwrappes the frame and show us her work.

"Well, well, well," Balthazar nods. "Someone has been paying attention," he keeps nodding.

Her picture seems to have been taken at the baby shower as well, but from another angle. Anna is sitting on the floor next to Balt and Dana. Bobby is crouching by her side as he hands Anna a piece of pie and Anna is looking at him with a big smile. Balt has his camera and he's showing Dana a picture he took. Everyone is having a really good time. 

"Good job, Mom!" Anna claps.

"Told you." Rowena is really proud of her choice.

"Good timing," Dana whispers in my ear. "Black and white would have made it ten times better."

"I don't know, it's pretty good."

"Take mine next!" Anna chimes.

"Alright. Let's see what you have here." She unwrappes it and goes quiet.

"C'mon! Show us!" Dana encourages her.

Ro turns the picture around and everyone goes quiet too.

It's a selfie of Anna.

"That's the day I found out I was pregnant," she explains. "That's Balt on the background. I'm about to tell him."

Everyone goes _Oh_ and _Ah_. And there's a round of applause and Anna wipes her tears.

"Good job, sweetheart!" Balt stands up to kiss her and holds her for a long minute. "Next one is mine, please!" He says after clearing his throat.

"Fine, hold your horses," Ro starts to work on the wrap of the biggest frame next to Dana's. 

"Yes! Finally!" Rowena almost screams. When she turns it around they all start to cheer and clap.

I hear Dana go _fuck_.  

It's a black and white picture of her and her sister cuddling on the couch, sleeping. It literally took my breath away. They look utterly beautiful and peaceful. Dana is the big spoon and has her arm draped over Anna's belly as Anna keeps one hand tight to her chest and the other linked with Dana's, just a little bit over her head.

"Nice decoy, Balt. You got me there!" Fergus chips in. 

"When was that?" I ask Dana.

"January, I think. This sonabitch took a similar picture with his phone and tried to make us believe that it was going to be his choice. But that's his good camera work right there. Sneaky bastard."

"It's beautiful," I nodge her.

"I know. I remember I was jetlagged. Otherwise he wouldn't have catched me sleeping. I was especially careful because of this year's challenge."

Balt is really proud of his work and Anna keeps looking at the picture with utter joy.

"Ok, one more picture left and we can all vote." She starts to unwrap the last frame and frowns.

"I took a detour," Fergus explains with little Hunter still sleeping on his arms.

"You sneaky bastard," Ro says and show as the picture.

"That's you on the phone," Fergus explains to Anna. It's a close up of Dana, laughing. She's talking on her phone, looks like she's outside on the street, probably New York. Her head is tilted back a little, almost looking right up, but you can see her green eyes shining. Her mouth is partially open showing her white teeth. One hand on her phone, the other one loose as she's holding a cigarette. Looks completely spontaneous and my heart does that thing.

"Good one, Fergus. Almost got it." Balt takes the frame and nods.

"You have to give me an extra point for sneaking on Dana." Fergus shrugs.

"You'll get two and an honor mention!" Rowena nods.

"Alright, let's vote!" Anna chimes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are brushing out teeth and I keep glancing at Dana. She's been kinda quiet since we got home. 

I rinse and wait for her on the bed. She comes back absent minded, rubbing some lotion on her arms.

"Tell me you are not upset about losing to Balt."

"What? No!" She frowns at me.

"Then what is it?"

Like Rowena explained, the winner had a place in the Hall of Fame, which was the hall between the bedrooms upstairs (although Balt promised to get all of us a copy). What she didn't mention was that we could keep one of the losing pictures. Anna insisted that I should take the one Fergus took. I loved that picture, so I didn't hesitate.

"Where are you going to hang that picture?" She asks me instead.

"Wherever you let me," I gesture her to sit on the bed. She does, and I put my hands out. She rubs some lotion on my hands.

"It's your picture, not mine," she kinda shrugs.

"I'll think about it, then."

"Mom and Fergus had been sending pictures of us back and forth between them."

"Wait, what?" 

"Yeah, Ellen showed me. At first, I thought it was because of the stealthy picture challenge. But Anna got me thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"I don't smoke when I'm in the phone with her. She hates to listen to me smoke. I was talking with you. I hadn't told Fergus at the moment. I think it was pretty early, maybe June, so when he asked I kinda lied and told him it was Anna. That's how I look when you're around. Anna point that out for me tonight. Told me I should keep you."

"Are you? Going to keep me, that is?" I ask.

"As long as you want me, yes." She smiles at me and I lunch over her. I begin kissing her all over.

"Look at you, not cheaping the moment with your big mouth." I tease her.

"You're never gonna to let that go, are you?" She pinches my side.

"I'm never gonna let you go!" I bite lightly on her shoulder and start tickling her.

"That's so corny!" She laughs and tries to get out of my grip.

"You're corny!" I intensify the tickles and Dana loses it. "That's what I look like when I'm with you, Sam. I'm gonna keep you, Sam. I didn't think I could fall in love with you, Sam." I mock her and she keeps laughing hysterically as I keep tickling her.

"I don't sound like that!" Suddenly, she takes the offensive and wiggles her way out of my arms, rolling away from me. She tries to catch up her breath. 

"I hate the tickle monster," she pants out. Then she jumps me and knocks me over the mattress. She begins kissing me all over. I get my hands on her butt and she suddenly stops. 

"What?" I ask and I hear the disappointment in my voice.

"I thought I heard something." She looks around and points out to the giant glass wall. "Look. Snow." 

I follow her gaze and sure enough, it's snowing. It's like watching a BBC documentary. The fluffy snowflakes, the trees, the quiet night. Everything is perfect. Everything feels right.

Dana turns to me with a soft smile and resumes her kissing, this time with less playfulness and more intensity.

 

 

We made love that night. 

 

 

Ugh, talking about being corny.

 


	24. Just What The Doctor Ordered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Phillip Blake is the name I came up with for the character played (in my imagination) by awesome Julian Richings.
> 
> Warning: mention of violence and rape.

"So, how are you feeling?" He's preparing a coffee pot as she smokes by the window, sitting on the bench beneath the window sill. 

"Peachy," she replies with a shrug.

"This is a safe place. You know that." He takes the pecan pie out of the oven and fixes a plate for each.

"Safety is an illusion, Blakey." She takes one last drawl and puts out the bud on the ledge. Then, she blows out the smoke, closes the window and makes her way to the table.

"Spare me the cynicism, please." He pushes the plate over to her sitting place. 

She rolls her eyes at him and sits down. She takes a deep breath and lets go the air slowly. Then, she closes her eyes and repeats the process. One deep breat in and out.

"I feel better than I look," her pitch's a little higher and lighter and her accent is rich and musical. Phillip nods and hands her a fork. 

"You look pretty battered." He pours coffee in a mug and hands it to her. No cream, no sugar. 

"You got a call from them?" She takes a sip and smiles.

"No, they called Billie. She called me." He puts an astonishing amount of sugar in his coffee, takes a sip, approves the taste with a little nod and goes for the fork. 

"You know I'm not _there_ , right?" She imitates him and takes a small bite out of her pie. It's still warm. She closes her eyes and lets go a little moan of pleasure. "This... is _really_ good, Phillip..."

"I'm glad you like it," he smiles back. "You know they run blood tests, right?"

"I know."

"You've been careless," he takes another sip.

"I've been under a lot of stress lately, you know that. Billie knows that. This --she raises her casketed arm-- has nothing to do with anything. It wasn't my fault. They can't throw me in a padded cell for this."

"Consider this your wake up call, then," Phillip shrugs.

"Besides, it's done. I mean, it won't happen again," Dana takes another bite.

"How come?"

"Well, Sam's out of the picture. That's all it takes."

"Is that so?"

"If these past three weeks are any indication, yes. I'm doing great. I'm feeling pretty balanced."

"I feel it's my turn to be cynical and say balance is an illusion," Phillip huffs.

"I know, but I'm being honest. I haven't take any medication whatsoever. No, wait, I'm taking my antibiotics. I meant the rest."

"What about painkillers?"

"Don't need them."

"So you're not in pain?"

"Only a mild discomfort."

"That's how you feel about your break up as well?"

"Oh, no. I feel miserable. But, at the same time, I feel utterly relieved."

"Because Sam is out of the picture?"

"Well, yes."

"We are talking about the same person, right?"

"Yes, why?"

"The same Sam you told me you were in love with and made you really happy?"

"Yes, the crack on my morning coffee. The same."

"What a complex depiction you have of him."

"Well, you won't have to worry about him any more."

"Is that what you tell yourself while you ignore him?"

Dana squints at him. 

"I don't want to talk to him."

"Or give him the chance to change your mind?"

"Look, I think it's better this way."

"Better for whom?"

"Better for him."

"Only at expense of your own happiness. And his, for all that matters."

"Phillip," she puts down her fork. 

"Dana," he puts down his mug. 

"I won't let him get to Sam. I won't."

"Of course."

Dana sticks out a finger and starts enumerating: "Dad, Grandma, my cousin, Adam, Jo, Jules, Crowley, Anna--"

"Please, I get it." 

"He ruins everything he touches. He's like poison."

"And by extension, you." 

"At some point, yes."

The doorbell rings. 

"Saved by the bell," Phillip finishes what's left of his coffee and goes to the intercom screen. "That's my next patient."

"Can I finish my pie?"

"Of course, take your time."

 

Dana takes her time.

She checks her phone again.

And then takes her time to feel miserable.

By the time Philip is done with his patient, Dana tidied up the kitchen and moved to the living room. She's laying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Phillip walks in and sits on one of the armchairs. No one says a word for a very long time.

"I don't want to go back to the psych ward."

"What makes you think you will?"

"Billie said maybe I need some time out."

"And you think she'll have you committed? That's a pretty big leap."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I've seen you in some very dark and low points, Dana. And I can assure you, you're not there. If you were, I would tell you, you know that."

"You said I was careless."

"And you were. That's the self destructive part of you taking charge. But there's more to you than drinking your problems away. That's just an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"I don't know what to do. Therapy, meds, alcohol, drugs, nothing seems to help."

"What changed these last weeks?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said you only took the antibiotics and nothing more, right?"

"Yes."

"What changed? Besides Sam, I mean."

Dana remained in silence for a moment. The doorbell rang again. 

"I think I'll take that as my cue" she replied in her usual nuance and sat up.

"You don't have to."

"It's OK. I have to get back to the office anyways."

 

 

Phillip was right. Something changed, something besides Sam. What happened at the subway station was weird. And when she snapped, it was really something else. And he changed too. He took her pain away, she didn't imagine that. Maybe the storm was finally catching up to her. And maybe, it wasn't all that bad.

 

 

 

* * *

 

On the night of the second day of June of 2001, Richard Roman dreamt about his grandmother's garden. It wasn't her actual garden, but a strange mixture of his childhood memories and other oneiric resources arranged by his unconscious mind. But he felt safe and happy there, and that was the most important part. All the leaves were hyperbolically sized and impossible green. The flowers were extremely vibrant and conspicuously tall. The sunlight was almost too bright and the sound of the cicadas was almost to loud. He was a child himself. A very small boy in a very big and lush garden. As often happens in dreams, he somehow knew he was in the middle of a hide and seek game but he wasn't sure if he was the one hiding or the one who was seeking. He didn't feel like pondering on that specific problem, so he decided the game was over. But what about the other players? He took a look around and saw no one. A fleeting idea run through his mind. He was, in fact, alone. The house was behind him but that was not the direction he wanted to take. He was pretty sure everyone was taking a nap, so he better make the most of it. He began walking to the end of the property, where there was a beautiful apple tree. He like that particular chill spot beneath its branches. But the apple tree was nowhere to be seen. And that was truly awkward. He kept walking but her grandmother's garden seemed to be endless. There was no tree, no south wall, no neighbors. Nothing, just an endless and gigantic array of bushes and flowers. And then, he spotted it. And he saw her. A young girl, with long braided hair and a white dress. She was sitting on a quilt under the apple tree. She looked familiar yet out of place. He wasn't sure what to do. 

 

 

 

 

 

_You found me_ , she said smiling. 

Right, he was looking for her. Silly boy. She padded the blanket as an invitation for him to sit. He joined her under the branches. 

_Now what_ , he asked her. It was going to be a while before someone, probably his mother, would wake up, so they still had time left to play. She tilted her head to the side and grinned widely. 

_Now we can do whatever you want_ , she lean closer to squeeze his hand. He felt a warm feeling in his belly.

_Whatever I want?_ He echoed. She nodded enthusiastically.

Richard thought about it for a moment. What did he want?

_I want to be King_ , he declared.

Her face lit up and she smiled sheepishly.

 

 

 

When Richard woke up, he didn't remember what was he dreaming about. He seldom did. But as the day went by, fragments came back to him. That evening he discussed the dream with his analyst.

"I told her I wanted to be King; and she smile. Then she nodded and showed me her hands. She was holding a huge white spider and she offered it to me, like a gift. Then I woke up," Richard paused. "I wasn't freaked out by it, and that's odd. I hate spiders."

"You described this young woman as familiar yet out of place," she said. "Like she didn't belong there."

"I did." 

"Let's start from there..."

Richard sighed and tried to connect the dots between his dream and his life at the moment. The most obvious link was the fact that he also felt out of place in his own family, especially when it came to the family business. Besides that, his grandmother's garden was a sort of childhood safe place for him, where he was free to play whatever game he wanted. He was the king of the place, he made the rules. That was an obvious contrast with how he felt now, almost completely bound to his own family drama. He didn't had to mention his mother directly, she was there anyways, especially by omission. And of course, there was also the too biblical apple tree. 

 

 

 

On his way back home, he kept thinking about it. He couldn't shake the feeling he was given a sign.

 

 

 

Several days after that, Richard traveled to New York. On the evening of the 21st of June, after a very frustrating meeting, Richard decided to walk back to the hotel. On the corner of 55th and 8th Avenue, he froze at the sight of a young girl, probably a college student, with a white summer dress. He immediately thought about the woman of his dream. He didn't realize he was following her, until she walked into a bar. _The blue note_. He hesitated and checked his watch. He was already late. His father and brother would be waiting for him. He kept walking. By the time he reached Columbus Circle, he regretted his complaince nature. He suddenly stopped. _This_ was his sign.  

 

On the morning of the 22th of June, Richard stepped down from his sitting in the company board and, in a more symbolic way, his family.

 

On the 4th of July, Richard Roman Enterprises was presented to the world. 

 

By Christmas, it was pretty clear Richard was a new kind of business man. 

 

By the time his company celebrated it's second anniversary, Richard was amongst the 50 most powerful persona in the country.

 

On September of 2007, he got a call from Naomi.

"We might have a situation here with Gabriel, I just wanted to give you the heads up," she said with no preambles.

"I'm listening," he replied putting his pen down and casted a pointed look to Zachariah.

 

That would be the first time he'd hear the name Dana Ketch.

 

"What would you recommend?" Zach asked leaning on his chair.

"As a lawyer, let her go," Naomi replied without missing a beat.

"Pretend you're not a lawyer for a second, what would you do then?" Richard leaned back in his chair. 

"I don't know," she wasn't very kin on stepping outside her comfort zone. 

"Humor me, Nom."

"I honestly don't know. She's... something else," she finally answered.

"That settles it then. I want to meet her." Zach frown at him.

"I'll arrange a meeting," Naomi didn't sound surprised.

"Great. I'll be in New York in couple of weeks." Richard was intrigued. He knew Gabriel, and Gabriel was good in his job. But he was also a tricky son of a gun, so he needed to be at least one step ahead. 

 

Three days before the actual meeting, Richard drove to Gabriel's place. When he knocked on the door, he was dumbstrucked. 

"Holy shit!" The woman in front of him gasped. 

And Richard's dream all those years ago came bubbling up into his conscious mind. 

"What, Pops?" Gabriel asked somewhere inside. The woman stared at Richard, unsure of what to do and he was somewhat freaked out, so neither of them replied. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt and denim shorts. Her hair was carefully braided around her head. "Ketch? What is it?" Gabriel made his way to the door and stopped when he spotted Richard.

"Nice ambush, Dick!" Gabriel resumed his walk and hugged him. That seemed to break the spell. "I was expecting you tomorrow, or the day after that," Gabriel padded his shoulder. "How are you? Hey, this is Dana Ketch. Ketch, this is the man who writes your checks." Dana smiled coyly and stretch out her hand. Richard shook his head with a huff and took her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Dana. I'm Richard. And Karen from finance does your checks." He let go of her hand almost reluctantly.

"Nice to meet you, Richard." Dana smiled broadly.

"You can call me Dick," he looked at her feet. She was barefooted.

"You can call me Ketch," she followed his gaze and then looked back up. They stared at each other for a beat. 

Gabe cleared his throat, clearly amused.

"C'mon in, Dicky! Let's get this show on the road." Gabriel gestured him to walk inside.

 

Richard tried not to stare as Dana explained what they were working on. They were not supposed to work outside the office, but he understood why they were reluctant to do so there. The living room looked like a war zone or the room of a crazy person. 

"It's already happening, Richard. I mean, it's not on the evening news yet but it's out there. The financial crisis is inevitable. The market is gonna crash and burn. BUT, but if we work out asses off in a broad and comprehensive contingency plan, we might have a chance," Dana's candor was refreshing. And her whole persona was... _magnetic_.

"And what would you recommend?" He leaned back on the couch with all the articles and news clips they gave him.

"You already have everything in motion, but it's about the scale, Richard," he liked the way she said his name. "Take what you did about Katrina's aftermath. Let's take that emergency housing program and turned it into an affordable and sustainable housing program. Then we take the sustainable farming but we resized it for small communities. We need to support small businesses as well as the big ones. We need to speed up the Clean Water program as well as the Clean Energy and we need to adjust those to work in different settings, you know? I'm talking about a Grand Plan here, comprehensive, adaptable and sustainable. We just, we literally extrapolate the ideas behind your work and we made a list. Gabe, give him the list."

Gabriel handed him a piece of paper.

"Those are the 15 goals we came up with. So we can help everyone, whether is New York, Chicago, Detroit or some small town in Kansas or Minnesota. And we don't have to stop here. I mean, we could take this opportunity to branch out. Like, really out."

Richard read in silence. 

"How much time would it take?" He asked after he reached the last item.

"That depends," Dana tilted her head to the side and frowned.

"On what?"

"On how far are you willing to go," Gabriel shrugged.

"What would you recommend?" Richard casted a pointed look at Dana. 

"Well, you need to be the shark. And a shark gotta eat." 

Richard smiled.

"Do you have the people?" He looked at Gabriel.

"We're getting there, yes." He nodded and casted a glance at her.

"How fast can you draft an actual plan for me to read?"

Dana turned around in her heals and left the room. Richard looked at Gabriel, who shrugged again and sat down.

"Where did you find her?" Richard leaned closer.

"Mutual friend." Gabriel grinned.

Dana came back with a folder. A thick folder, maybe a hundred and something pages. She handed to him with both hands and a little bow, like the Japanese.

"What's this?" Richard took the folder in his hands and looked up. 

"First stage." Dana replied.

"I'm gonna need some time to go through this." He sighed.

"Of course," Dana gave him a little smile. "Take your time."

The meeting was over.

When they reached the parking lot, Edgar popped up of the SUV and took the heavy box Dana and Gabriel had given to Richard. He went back to the car and left them alone.

"Gabriel, would you mind? I'd like to talk with Dana alone." 

Gabriel looked at Dana, who gave him a reassuring smile. He gave Richard a good old fashion hug and a pad on the back. 

"Nice to see you, Dicky." Gabriel turned around and strolled out the parking lot whistling a tune.

"Do you mind if we take a walk?"

"I don't have my shoes," Dana looked down on her feet. 

"Then we can take a ride," Richard smiled.

Dana nodded and they made their way to the car. 

 

  

 

Almost two years after that first meeting, Richard was staring at Dana with almost the same appraisal and bewilderment.

"Guys, would you mind?" He asked. Gabriel huffed in response.

"C'mon kids, grown up talk," he gestured Charlie and Kevin to stand up.

They exchange looks and made their way to the door. Gabriel casted a look at Zachariah and Naomi, who in turn looked at Richard.

"I would like to speak to Dana alone," he explained and Naomi frowned. Zach looked at him with a hint of amusement.

Once they all left, Richard turned to Dana. She was leaning against the wall, by the window. He took a few steps towards her and stood up close enough to count the freckles on her cheeks.

"Dana," he began and then stopped.

"Richard," she raised her brow. He loved the way she pronounced his name.

"You're not serious," he narrowed his eyes.

"Does it look like I'm not?" She pursed her lips.

"The White House?" He huffed, shook his head and looked away.

"Whatever you want, Richard," her voice was just a little more than a whisper.

"You don't mean that," he cast a quick glance at her.

"I thought you wanted to be King," she tilted her head to the side.

"I mentioned that dream _one time_ and you use it against me _every time_ you get." He gave her a little nudge.

"That's not what I'm doing."

He turned to look at her, narrowed his eyes and smiled.

"You're serious."

"Dead serious. Do we have a deal?" Something flickered through her eyes. Something ravenous.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Dana leaned closer and kissed him lightly on the lips. She barely lingered but he felt her smile.

 

* * *

 

Richard looks at his watch. It's ten minutes after eight, he should definitely call it a day. As he prepares to wrap things up he texts Edgar to pick them up.

"I just texted Edgar," he looks up to Dana. She's sitting on the couch with her laptop and her glasses. She looks up from the screen and nods. "Wanna grab a bite?"

"Please, I'm starving," she says with a big grin and closes her laptop.

 

They ended up in that ridiculous small place in Chinatown. The ramen is really good, though. Edgar seemed to enjoy it as well. After dinner, Richard suggested they take a walk. 

"You're stalling," Dana says as she lits up her mandatory after-dinner-cigarette.

"I got a call from Billie." 

"She sure called everyone, huh?" 

"It's her job."

"I know. And what do you think?"

"I think I want to hear what you have to say about it."

"Well, I need to work, Richard. This job keeps me focused."

"And this has nothing to do with Sam?" Dana sighs with annoyance.

"Why is everyone...?" She trails off.

"I've seen you two. You have something really special going on. You shouldn't give up on that kind of thing _."_

Dana chuckles humorlessly.

"Of all people..." She trails off again. "I thought you'd be OK with it."

"Why? Because I want you all to myself?"

"Don't you?" Dana stops to put out her cigarette with her foot. Richard looks at her feet.

"But I can't have everything, can I?" He looks up at her. She shrugs and picks up the bud.

"That depends on your understanding of the word everything." She walks over to a trash can and then makes her way back to him.

"Call Sam."

" _You_ call Sam," she's annoyed.

"Fine," he shrugs and goes for his phone. "You know, Edgar got a hold on the security footage." He pauses before unlocking the screen. 

"What?" She looks back at Edgar, who's standing just a few feet away from them. Edgar nods and she squints at him.

"There's a black out just before you get hurt. All the station cameras got screwed." 

Richard leans closer and holds her bad hand. Dana looks down at their hands and then up at him. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Should I be worry?" He tries not to show how concern he really is.

"You always worry, Dick." She smiles broadly and squeezes his hand.

"You're right." He huffs and takes her hand to his lips. "Let's get back. It's getting really late." He kisses her knuckles and lets go.

 

 

After they dropped Dana at Gabriel's place, Richard actually made the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sam. This Dick Roman here. Sorry about the hour, I was just calling to let you know Dana will be back in town by the end of the month."

"OK?"

"We have some things to wrap up here in New York, but I'll make sure she's home soon."

Sam pauses.

"Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. Sorry to bother you so late, though. Take care, Sam."

"You too, Richard."

He hungs up and stares at his phone.

"What?" He almost barks at Edgar

"She'll be pissed," Edgar signed with a smug on his face.

"She'll thank me later," he shrugs.

"Oh, absolutely. She'll send you a fruit basket and a thank you card, I'm sure."

Richard laughs.

There's nothing he wouldn't do for her. Absolutely nothing.

 

 

 

* * *

I was drying the dishes when I heard Anna's car on the drive way. She texted me earlier, asking me if I was up for rendezvous after lunch. I haven't seen her for while, so I invited her home. I walked to the front porch and watched her slipped out of the car and for a split second I thought it was Dana. I tried to ignore the black hole on my chest and greet her instead.

 

 

"Sam!" She replies with a big smile. She hurries as she climbs the three steps and gives me big hug. I'm a little surprised by her strength, and I hug her back.

"How are you doing?"

"'Kay, I guess. I had forgotten how tall you are."

I chuckle. 

"How is Hunter?"

"He's napping with Grandpa. How are you?" She gives me a pointed look and I shrug.

"That's a tricky question. Do you want some tea or coffee?"

"Coffee would be nice. I brought pie," she holds up the bag she was carrying.

"Then by all means, c'mon in."

 

 

I suggest we settle on the back porch with the coffee and the pie.

"This wasn't here the last time!" Anna inspects the porch and the deck.

"Nope. What do you think? Jody and Donna helped me out over the weekend. They have all the tools you could possibly think of and the skills set to use them properly."

"Wow, that's awesome! It looks really neat and pro. I can barely change a light bulb. Nevermind building something. You're crafty. I like that."

"Well, it's not like I'm Chip Gaines or something. That would be Donna."

"Oh! I _love_ that you know who he is."

"What do you think I watch on my days off?"

"Were you thinking about doing some renovations or was just the spur of the moment?"

"To be honest, this whole thing was Jody's idea. She suggested I should built something and stop mopping around. I told her I could use a new back porch and she took care of everything else. They brought the kids over on the weekend and ta-da! Back porch."

"They're good friends." Anna's smile is soft and warm.

"They are. And now I'm really thinking about doing some upgrades."

"To stop the mopping?"

"Hell, I don't know."

"Damnit."

"I know."

"I really thought she would cool off and, you know, you would work things out."

"Well, I got a call last night," Anna looks at me hopefully. "From Dick Roman himself."

She gives me a WTF face.

"Yep. He wanted me to tell me Dana was coming back home by the end of the month."

"That's _weird_."

"To say the least. I thought..." I hesitate.

"You thought he would be happy with your break up?" She finishes for me.

"Well, yes."

"Richard's weird. I only met him a couple of times, sure, but... I just can't figure him out. He's _clearly_ crazy about my sister, but sometimes I think there's something more going on---wait! I didn't mean it like _that_!" Anna quickly corrects herself. "I meant, they have a weird relationship, like---shit, again, not like _that_..."

"Hey, I know. They are _very_ secretive..."

"Yes! Right?" 

"And I don't think he's in love with her the way we are, it's something more."

"Yes! Like, like uhm..."

"Like he worships her?"

"Yes! Somethig close to religious devotion or something."

"That's a good one." I huff.

"Mixed with Stockholm Syndrome."

I laugh at loud and almost spill my coffee.

"You think this is weird?" Anna scrunches her nose.

"What do you mean?"

"Us, talking about her..." 

"Do you feel weird about it?"

"Hell, I don't know... I find it comforting, really. Sometimes I feel I'm the only one who openly worries over her and call it as it is, you know?"

"Like when she gets shit faced and passes out on her own birthday party?"

"For example... I don't know, I guess it's nice to have someone to talk to, outside the family---not that you're not family, Sam. Damnit!" She facepalms, clearly exasperated and embarrassed. 

"Hey, chill. I get it. We're cool."

"I hate this break-up."

"That makes two of us."

"She clearly loves you, I don't know what the hell is she thinking."

I huff.

"I love my sister, but can be such a dick sometimes."

"I don't know, Anna. I should have deal with things a different way. I ambushed her, it wasn't fair. Not by a long shot."

"Yeah, but she was being so reckless. We had that particular talk a million times, Sam. She doesn't give a shit. And my Mom acts like she's gonna be fine. And I'm like, _not she's not_."

"What about Bobby?"

"Dad worries, but he trusts her. I don't think I have ever seen them fight, not like we do... I don't know. Sometimes I feel I'm gonna go crazy, like I'm the only one who thinks she's walking a excruciating thin line between being a total badass and plainly self-destructive, you know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean."

"Like what happened back in February. Mom acted like it's was nothing, Dad was like 'it was just an episode, let's pay more attention' and that's about it. And I'm so fucking scared all the time. And now this?"

"I remember your mom at the hospital the first time, telling me it wasn't her first rodeo."

"But it's not a god damned rodeo, is it?"

"Doesn't feel like it." I mindlessly rub the teeth mark on my shoulder.

"Sam?" Anna's frowning.

"Yeah?"

"Did she... _marked_ you?"

"What?"

"Did she bite you?"

"Yeah..."

"Fuck."

"Anna, what does it even mean?"

She pushes the hem of her sweater to expose her shoulder. I gape at her.

"It's a _thing_."

"What kind of thing?"

"She likes to brand her people."

"What?"

"She brands her people, like you would brand the cattle on your farm. This, I was probably four years old when she bit me. I don't remember much. And my parents sure didn't talk about it, but I always knew, I used to see her a lot, I ven played with her. I heard my mom called her the Swamp Girl once."

"Shit." Swamp? That actually makes sense. I can still smell the decay in the bathroom after all this time.

"She was always nice to me, though. She likes children, apparently."

"Anna, who the fuck is she?"

"I don't know. But she tags along with the others. They don't like to talk about. I mean my mom and my uncle. I think Dad saw some shit in his early days, but he keeps his mouth shut. We're not supposed to talk about it."

"Why?"

Anna takes a deep breath and stares at me.

"The man in the corner?" I venture.

She shudders.

"I know how _insane_ this all sounds..."

"Have you seen him?"

"Seen him? I _met_ him. I mean, not him, but, close enough."

"What?"

"You didn't...? Of course she didn't tell you, for Christ's sake," Anna runs a hand over her face. I reach to her and rest my hand on her shoulder. She takes a deep breath and smiles at me.

"Back in 2012 I was a freshman in Notre Dame. One night I drove my roommate Hannah to the train station. I don't remember why, but she had to take a late night train for some reason. Anyways, I drove back to campus and when I was getting out of my car my phone started ringing in my bag. Next thing I know, I'm being shoved against the side of the car with knife on my throat. At first, I thought he wanted the car. I offered him the keys, told him, _please don't hurt me, just take the car_. And he laughed. He laughed and punched me on the face with his fist, hard. I dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He broke my nose, I started to choke on my own blood. I tried to get him off for a split second, but he said he'd slit my throat. I really thought he'd kill me, so I stood still. I stood still with my eyes shut, coughing because I was still choking and it was really hard to breath. That's when he started to undress me. I was vaguely aware he couldn't get it up, he couldn't get hard, so he used his hands and, and he kept touching me, under my clothes, like, like he was looking for something, and when he got to my shoulder, this right here, he licked the scar and moaned. And then I had this fleeting thought that he was gonna get hard now and that he was gonna get me pregnant. And that's when I started crying. And, and the phone kept ringing and I knew it was my sister, because it was her ringtone, you know? This stupid country song she used to sing to me when I was a kid, and all I could think of was her voice and how broken hearted she was going to be if this guy killed me. And then, several car alarms went off, like all together so I opened my eyes, and it was pitch black and I heard the sirens. Police sirens. That's when he freaked out and he stabbed me. Three times, in my stomach. I didn't feel anything. There was no pain. Just... noise."

"Oh my God, Anna... I'm so sorry..."

"Sorry to drop this on you like this, I know it's..."

"Please, don't apologize... I had no idea. I just, I'm not sure what to say..."

"No one does."

A minute goes by in silence.

"He freaked out but he didn't run away. He didn't even put up a fight when they found us. I don't remember much else after that. Later on, once they had his DNA, all these unsolved rape cases popped up all the way the across the Northeast. At least from the women who actually reported it. See, I wasn't his first victim but I was his last. He got convicted pretty fast. His name was Alastair Heyerdahl. He's dead now. He died in prison."

"How did the police get there?"

"Dana called them. She wasn't even in the country, but she knew something was wrong, so she called the police and send them my way. They got there just in time. I lost a lot of blood though, and I was out for a while. When I woke up, in the hospital, Dana was there, by my side."

I'm not sure what to say, so I say nothing.

"He said something to me, something that had nothing to do with what he was doing to me. As the phone kept ringing, he said 'tell her he says hi'. He gave me a hickey on my shoulder, right where the scar was, he moaned and whisper in my ear 'tell her he said hi'."

"Do you think...?"

"I don't know. I mean, I don't know what's what. Have you met many rapists?"

"I met a few back when I was with the NYPD. There's a special unit for sexual crimes, but sometimes our paths crossed."

"Well, then you know they are not really singularities. Men prayed on women because they can. They are the healthy offspring of the patriarchal society we lived in. Well, he was one of those. But also, at the same time, I believe there was something more to him. And that something more was connected to my sister somehow, and she knew that as well. She knew who was behind it, who send the message."

"I'm so sorry, Anna." I wipe a tear it of the corner of my eye.

"Thank you Sam," she tells me but immediately hides her face in her hands. I move over to give her a hug and she burries her face on my chest, just like Dana would. I pad her hair and hold on tight. Anna sobs in silence and I can't fight my own tears, so I don't. After a few moments, Anna gently moves away.

"You are like a giant teddy bear," she chuckles. "That was a really good hug, thank you." 

"Any time," I smile.

"I haven't talked about it in a long time. I mean, not outside therapy and support groups."

"Thanks for trusting me."

She smiles at me but her eyes show something else. Something like fear.

"I know you've seen him too, Sam. If he gets to her, if he gets to Dana, I can't even imagine... That keeps me up at night..."

"I know... It's like..."

"A never ending nightmare."

"If I could know more, get all the facts, you know? Maybe I could do something about it..."

"But this isn't your regular case, Sam. There's so much more going on, like, like... Forces beyond our understanding. Old forces, ancient if you will... This ---she touches her shoulder and then mine--- it's just the tip of the iceberg."

"I want to understand, Anna. I need to understand what's going on."

"I know, Sam..."

Anna's phone rings.

"Fuck," she mutters and checks it. "That was fast."

"What?"

She shows me the text she just got. It's from Dana.

 

_U OK Banana?_

 

"I swear..." Anna huffs. She types a quick answer, gets a reply, and puts her phone back in her pocket. 

"Wanna go visit Mom? I bet Hunter will be up from his nap by now." 

I hesitate.

"You don't think is weird?"

"No! Besides, we all kinda miss you. No one will admit it at loud, but it's true. When is your next shift?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Cool, then we can all have dinner. What you say? We can take my car and I'm sure Bobby will want to drive you back." I'm pretty sure she just gave me her puppy eyes. 

"Sure, let's visit Red."

"Awesome!" Anna grins widely and helps me tiding up. We do our best to keep the shadows at bay. 

 

 

 

When we park outside Rowena's, Anna lingers for a minute with her hand on the ignition.

"You know, I wasn't even supposed to get pregnant. He hurt me really bad and I had a really bad infection afterwards. My doctor told me it was going to be really hard for me to carry a pregnancy to term, even if I managed to get pregnant."

My face says it all.

"Yeah." She stares ahead with a blank expression on her face. "Some would say it was a miracle."

"Is that what you think?"

"God had nothing to do with it."

She kills the engine and stares in the direction of the house.

"I know it was my sister. Probably because she felt responsable for what happened to me." She turns to look at me. "She thinks she's responsable for all of us."

"But how could she...?" I trail off. 

"I don't how, but she did. She made it possible."

"How's that even possible?"

"Dana has a lot of secrets, Sam."

Anna's phone beeps. She rolls her eyes, takes her phone out of her pocket and hands it over to me without even glancing at it. I read the text on the screen. It's from Dana.

 

_Stop talking. I'm not kidding._

 

The phone rings again and another text pops on the screen.

 

_You don't know who can be listening._

 

I look at Anna with dread. Anna's face suddenly shows something I have felt for some time now. Another text.

 

_And why do you let Sam read your messages?_

 

"What the fuck?" I mutter. "Did you tell her I was with you?"

Anna shakes her head and I hand her back the phone. And then my own phone beeps. I take it out of my pocket and chills run down my spine.

 

_We can talk when I get back. In the meantime, stay put and shut your cakehole._

 

"A never ending nightmare," Anna whispers as she stares at the screen of her phone and then gets out of the car. I follow her suit. At least Dana is not ignoring me anymore. I guess that's progress. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_An American Prayer_ is blasting over the speakers. Everything that was inside the cabinets is now on the counters and the kitchen table. There's a smell of bleach hanging in the air. All signs of demonic omens. Gabriel knew he was in for a treat.

"You're stressed cleaning," he says behind her. 

"What?" She yells over the music. He reaches for the control, lowers the volume and repeats himself.

"I said _you're stressed cleaning_."

"I'm not," she dismissively replies back as she washes a cloth.

"Right," he pauses. "You're just cleaning while you're stressed." He opens the fridge and immediately closes the door. Then he opens it again and just stares at the shining shelves. "You're good, Pops. I'll give you that." He grabs a beer. "It's like a whole new fridge."

She huffes and shakes her head. 

"You're such a slob."

"And you're a bleach freak. We are perfect for each other." He leans against the kitchen table and sips his beer. "Did you buy those?" He gestures the rubber gloves she's wearing. 

"Nope. Cleaning closet." She climbs onto the chair and begins wiping the upper shelves.

"We have a cleaning closet?"

She huffs, again.

"How's your arm?" 

"Fine."

"Ok, Chatty Cathy." 

She sighs and stops for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Ma. I'm not in the mood."

"So you don't want to talk about it?" He ventures.

"Nope." She moves to the next cabinet.

"Great. Then you can listen."

She keeps cleaning every surface with a steady rhythm.

"I don't know what happened and I don't really need to know. Just go back to Kansas, apologize, enjoy your make up sex, plan a Winter Wonderland wedding in the Swiss Alpes, so I can wrestle your sister to decide who gets to be the godmother of your first child."

Nothing.

"Wow, you really fucked it up, didn't you?"

"Don't you have a date to go to?"

"Nice try, Ketch."

"I already said I don't want to talk about it, Gabe."

"You know what Mick said to me one time?"

"Wanna quote Sauron and Voldemort too?"

"He said you were like Pinocchio, a puppet hoping he could be a real boy. He seemed to believe that you had to pretend to care, because by default, you didn't give a shit about anything. Funny thing, it literally took one coffee to realize it's exactly the opposite. You wish you could be a puppet, that you couldn't feel a damn thing, because one daily basis you're overwhelmed by everything. And we both know beneath all the masks you put on, all your layers and names, all your kinks and questionable habits, there's just a frightened little girl. And I can't even begin to understand the reasoning behind it, but I know you think you don't deserve to be loved nor cherished let alone happy. And you know what? That's just sad, Dana. Heartbreaking, really."

Dana turns around with a frown.

"Are you serious right now, Gabriel?" She doesn't sound upset, not even mildly inconvenienced.

"And what _absolutely_  rubs me in a  _very_ wrong way is that in _any_ other circumstances, if this were, let's say, some Roman Enterprises project, or not even _that_ , any given random idea you might have about the most insignificant thing in the world, you'd be relentless, even ruthless. You would show no mercy. And even if it proves to be a total flop and the whole shithouse goes up in flames, you'd go down swinging and call it a win. That's why you do what you do and you're good at it. That's what makes you _you_. You thrive on hopelessness. And yet, here you are. Deflecting like a wuss."

"This is different," her tone is clipped and dry.

"You're right! This is more important! This is the love of your life for fuck's sake, you should be fighting even harder!"

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dana's in one of the guest rooms, staring at the ceiling, unable to stop her one track mind.

It had been a pretty awesome day right until now. Anna and Balt picked her up at the airport a little after noon and they all went back to Topeka to have brunch with their parents. The late lunch became a barbecue and then movie night and then it was just too late to drive back to Kansas so it turned into a slumber party. Except they're too old to camp in the living room, so they use the bedrooms.

Her old bedroom was turned into the empty room her mother uses for _special meetings_ , so she's using the spare guest room at the end of the hall. She thought it was going to be easier that way, but no. Thus far, sleeping proved pointless. She gets up and walks downstairs to the kitchen. She marches to the fridge and takes out the conteiner with her mother's home made icecream.

"You're cheating," Anna says behind her with Hunter on her arms.

"I'm not!" She whispers with already two spoons on her hand. They sit on the breakfast nook with the icecream between them.

"What are you doing up?"

"Witching hour," Anna replies fumbling with the spoon. "He gets jumpy."

"Here," she gestures for Hunter and Anna gently hands him to her.

"Thanks," she replies and goes for the icecream. Hunter settles in her arms without a sound. 

"You seem alright," she mutters as she boops his adorable nose. Hunter grabs her finger and yawns.

"I said jumpy, not cranky. Usually we take a walk and that's it. We were on our way back when I saw the light. Figured you were raiding the sweets."

"Can you blame me?"

"Not really. Mom should totally sell this."

"Didn't she tell you? Dorothy wants to buy her the recipe, but Mom is all like _it's not an exact science_ \--"

" _It's art_ ," Anna finishes for her and they both laughs quietly.

"But could you imagine? Dodo's pies with this icecream? That would be like heaven. Capital H."

Anna takes a big spoonful and savors the icecream in silence.

"You know, I can hear you think, Banana."

Anna huffs.

"You seem more tuned than usual. What's the deal?"

"I'm not taking my usual dosis."

"Well, you creep the shit out of me the other day."

"I'm sorry."

"And?"

"What?"

"Usually this is the part where you tell me I should be more careful, and I tell you you shouldn't mess up with your meds, so you tell me you're in control, but I question your choices so you get mad and I get upset, and then Dad comes down to check on us, and so on... I can't do my part if you don't do yours."

"Sounds exhausting. Do we have to?"

"OK. Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

"Haha. Funny."

"I mean it. You haven't even look at the icecream and you're already all boney. How much weight have you lost?" 

Dana shrugs as she settles an already asleep Hunter on her shoulder. 

" _And_ you took Hunter willingly. You never do that."

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't. What do you want from me?" Dana lets out a sigh and Anna frowns. She puts the spoon down.

"Hey, look at me," Anna snaps her fingers. "Dee, look at me." Her tone is firm. No more small talk. Dana looks up and makes eye contact. 

"Where are you?" 

"I'm OK."

"No, you're not. Tell me where you are."

"Right now, like an eight."

"Talk to Sam, please."

"I don't want to, Nana."

"Why?"

"Because it's easier this way."

"If you feel like an eight that's not near easy. Not by a long shot."

"I just need time."

"No, you need him."

"And that's precisely the problem."

"I swear, you're impossible sometimes! Why do you think you have to endure throughout everything on your own? You're self-sabotaging so hard, I want to smack you."

"It's not like I'm making it up, Anna. You know what's out there."

"Yes, and you know what? He got to other girls too, and some of them didn't survive. And some of them did. And that's life, Dee. You can't save everyone. That's how fucked up this world is and it's not your fault. That monster came after me, yes, but you saved my life. You helped me get up on my feet, you helped me heal my wounds. I've seen you do some pretty amazing shit. What makes you think you can't fight back? Why do you think he'll take Sam away from you?"

"Because that's precisely what he does."

"Then do your fucking thing, Dana! You're not a helpless child anymore! Throw his sorry ass to the fucking wolves! Eat his heart out! You have to stop hiding and start fighting back, God damnit!"

"Blasphemies in front of children and smuggled icecream at three am. I must have done something right with you two," Rowena strolls in and goes for a glass of water. 

"Sorry, Mom," Anna immediately looks at the icecream container. It's half way empty. 

"How's the lecture coming up? Did you manage to get a word through that thick skull?" Anna looks at her sister and she's taken aback. Dana's holding Hunter close. Her eyes shine from unshed tears.

"Mom...?" Anna calls and gets closer to her sister. Tears are coming down now and she's having trouble breathing. 

"What?" Rowena goes to the table and freezes for a split second.

"Would you take Hunter with you, Beanie? I need to talk to your sister."

Anna frowns and she's about to protest when Dana hands her Hunter. She takes the sleeping child and slowly walk out of the kitchen. On the way upstairs, she runs into Bobby.

"What's going on?" His sleepy voice shows a hint of concern.

"Dana's crying." Anna can't seem to be out of her daze.

"What?" Bobby takes a few steps but Anna grabs him by the elbow.

"Mom's talking to her."

"Did you... see anything?" Bobby scratches the back of his head.

"No. I think she's just sad."

"Alright." Bobby doesn't seem to feel better.

"C'mon, Dad. We can talk in the morning."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time I realize I should probably get back, the storm is pretty much above me. I check my watch. Yes, I definitely lost track of time. Again. I try to pick up the pace on my way back but I know I'll be drench by the time I get home. Not that I mind, but I know Jody will lecture me about it if she finds out. I can almost hear her in my mind. 

_Why can you run in a treadmill like a normal person?_

But I couldn't stay home. I woke up around three and that was it, no point going back to sleep. So I went out for a run ahead of schedule.

 

The sky turns yellow as morning comes. The rain comes along, thicker through some patches of the road. Wind picks up just a little bit, it's still practically a breeze. The steady sound of water and my feet hitting the ground it's only overlap by the roar of thunder. All and all, it's an eerie and ominous combination.

 

I would usually slow down as I get closer to home and walk for the last fifty yards or so to steady my heart rate. But not today. I sprint the last stretch like a crazy person. I must look like a drown harassed rat but I don't mind. It's liberating. 

 

And then I see her. Well, I felt her rather than see her. Dana is waiting for me on the front porch. She's a small blurry spot but I know it's her.

 

My already high pulse now sky rockets and my anxiety kicks all the way in, threatening me to swallow me whole. I'm not sure what I should do, but I keep running towards the house, trying to figure out if it's a good thing she's here or it's really bad. We were supposed to talk sometime over the weekend. Does it means she couldn't wait? Wait for what? Fuck. Other than an honest apology, I don't really have a plan. I don't know what to say.

I'm ten yards away when I see her standing up. I really try to slow down, but I practically jump over the steps and hit the landing with my heart on my throat.

I open my mouth like an idiot, hoping I can come up with something worth saying when suddenly I have Dana's legs wrapped around my waist and her hands on my hair and her mouth on mine. Her kiss is frantic and hungry and my brain shuts down. Thank God, my body takes charge. I get my arms around her and I slam her against the front wall of the house. I move my hands to cup her ass and pull her even closer. She purrs my name against my lips and my dick agrees.

"I'm sorry," I manage to say as I trail sloppy kisses down her throat. She tugs my head away for a second to squeeze a "me too," and  immediately goes for my mouth again as she grinds her hips harder against me. I move one hand to her lower back to apply more pressure and she lets go a needy moan. I'm vaguely aware we are still on the porch only when I caught the flash of a lighting. Right, summer storm. The house vibrates with the sound of thunder and Dana bites my lower lip.

"Sam," she pleads, stressing the vowal. I can feel my dick getting even harder at the sound of my name.

"Fuck," I growl but manage to pin her hands to the sides. "We need to talk," I try to meet her eyes but she can barely keep them open, lids heavy with arousal. I never thought I'd see her face again nevermind this. She's panting, I'm panting, and it's raining cats and dogs.

"Talk, right," she humms trying to catch her breath. She finally manages to open her eyes and it's like I'm the one hit by a lighting. Her eyes look impossible green and have a monstrous epiphany. 

 

I can't do life without her. 

 

I don't want to. 

 

I let go of her hands, wrap my arms around her again and go for a more gentle kiss.

"Hi," she whispers when I lean back an inch.

"I'm sorry, Dana." My voice sounds strained.

"I'm sorry too," she replies as she unwrappes her legs to stand up. She chuckles. 

"I can't reach the floor," she smiles that adorable all teeth and no eyes smile, and my heart skips a beat. I can't fight my own laughter as I put her down. She wobbles for a second and bursts into laughter as she holds on to my arms.

"I forgot how to walk."

I lean to kiss her forehead and then I almost jump.

"Did I hurt you?" I forgot about her broken ribs.

"What?" She's confused for a second. I stretch my hands over her rib cage.

"Oh, you mean---yeah, I'm OK." 

"Your arm?" I take her arm and give it a once over. I feel like we are playing doctor.

"I'm OK, Sammy." She flashes a coy smile and stands on her toes to give me a little peck on the lips but immediately turns into a hot kiss again. I can't keep my hands to myself. 

"We should probably get inside." I know I have the silliest smile on my face.

"You need a hot shower, baby. You're gonna catch a cold," she runs a hand through my wet hair. I take her hand and kiss her knuckles.

"I seriously doubt that," I reply. I feel my skin scorching hot. 

I reach for the key and we walk through the front door as the sky seems to be falling down on us.

 

I'm glad we are both under the same roof.

 

 

 

 

 

There's nothing natural about this storm but _screw it._ Sam unlocks the front door and we walk inside. There's a weird half light pouring from the windows. Sam's still sorta panting and I'm not sure if it's because he was running like a crazy person or because he's as turned on like I am.

"I need to get out of these clothes," he says walking down the hall towards the laundry room. 

"You're dripping water all over," I scold him and he laughs. Fuck. It's a good sound. 

I stand in the living room, not sure what to do. I had a whole speech planned but then I saw him running my way and...

 

Error 404. File not found. 

 

He reemerges drying his hair with a towel. He's wearing nothing more than his wet boxers. 

I have a lady boner.

He frowns at me.

"What?" 

"I think I just jizzed in my pants." I whisper. Sam burst into laughter and keeps rubbing his head and face with the towel.

"I'm not kidding," I deadpan and he laughs even harder.

I take a few steps to stand right in front of him.

"Sam." I purr his name. "I want you to fuck me like there's no tomorrow." That gets me his attention alright.

"Babe," he begins and I just know where this is going. "We can't do the sex without the talk."

"But I really want to do the sex," I sound like a two years old.

"Believe me, so do I." He takes my hand to kiss my knuckles. "I really need to take a shower. Why don't you go ahead and make some coffee? We can have breakfast," Sam is already walking towards the bedroom and I feel very stupid and awkward.

 

Maybe I wasn't ready to talk to him at all. Maybe I was ready to fuck our way back to each other and pretend nothing happened. That would be the easiest way out, I guess. Why am I even surprised it's not an option? 

 

I make myself a cup of Joe. I can hear Sam getting ready in the bedroom. My anxiety is building up and I'm starting to feel overwhelmed. I haven't had a proper night sleep in days and this storm is freaking me out. I stare at my coffee and I can feel my fingers tingling.

 

_I don't feel so good._

 

He puts a hand on my shoulder and leans closer to me.

 

_Let me help you then._

 

 


	25. I got a love that keeps me waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Meg. I like her a lot. 
> 
> I like to use song lines as titles. I do that in Spanish too. 
> 
> Am I rambling? Yes, yes I am.
> 
> *Update*
> 
> I really could use some comments on the way I wrote the end of this chapter.

"Morning, Clarence." Meg slides down Castiel's table like an old acquaintance. 

 

"I already told you I don't understand that reference," he keeps studying the menu. "Do you want eggs and bacon or you rather something else? Pancakes maybe?" He keeps his eyes fixed on the menu.

"Your treat?" Meg squints and leans on the table.

"Sure," Cas looks up and hands her the menu.

"How generous of you, Big Spender," she takes it and scans it quickly. She gestures the waiter.

"Are you ready to order?" His smile is tired but polite. 

"Coffee," Cas' answers is clipped.

"I'll have coffee, a salmon bagel, eggs Benedict and a plate of crispy bacon, sunshine. Thank you," Meg smiles at the young man and that earns her a coy smile back. He nods once and leaves with their order. Cas sighs and get down to business.

"What can I do for you besides paying for your clearly excessive meal?"

"Oh, you got a pen there? I have a bucket list," Meg wiggles her eyebrows.

"I have good memory, I don't need to write it down."

"Well, this just gets better and better." Meg begins rearranging the sugar and condiments packages. "You still freelancing?"

"If by freelancing you mean not engaging in your petty quarrel downstairs then the answer is yes."

"I like how dismissive you are about our _coup d'etat_. We need a better marketing department."

"Are you here to recruit me?" Cas arches his brow with half smirk.

"Is it working?"

"No."

"Figured."

The waiter comes back with the food and Meg starts with the eggs. She watches as Cas sips his coffee and furrows his brow. She hands him a sugar package but he stares at it and proceeds to ignore it. 

"Black and bitter, huh? Like your sense of humor."

"I prefer it that way." 

Meg sorta chuckles.

"So, did you find her?"

"Would I be here if I had?" 

"Jezz, Clarence. You sure know how to damp any small talk, huh?" She munches at some bacon.

"Would you like to discuss the weather?"

Meg shrugs and keeps working on her eggs. 

"You know, she's not the only one on the Hot Chart Top 10. They're looking for you as well."

"I know. Are you going to kiss and tell?"

"Ha!" She chuckles for real this time. "No, that was the old me. This is the new me."

"New vessel, new rules?"

"Maybe you _should_ be in advertisement."

"I don't think your boss would like that."

"My old boss? Probably not. My new boss? Definitely not."

"Is that why you're here?"

"You're the reason I'm here." She leaves the eggs aside and moves to the bagel. He takes a bacon strip and stares at it with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. 

"Maybe you shouldn't have taken my call."

"You _think_?" Meg's face is the utter expression of sourness. "She deep fried me like a churro!" She takes the bacon strip out of his hand.

Cas can't help to smile. 

"Oh, wipe that smug expression off your pretty face, you little shit."

"How does the saying go? You mess with the bull...?" He trails off.

"Hilarious. I happened to like that meat suit, you know?"

Castiel shrugs and pokes at the eggs with a fork.

"Didn't your mama teach you not to play with your food?" Meg takes the fork out of his hand.

"I don't have a mother," he shrugs. "Finish your breakfast. I'll meet you outside." Cas leaves €20 on the table.

 

 

 

He rolls his cigarette just like she would. It's one of those little things that keep his sanity in check. He smokes leaning against his car, like sometimes she does. After a while, Meg joins him. 

"Is that your ride?" She takes a closer look and shakes her head in disapproval. "You look like a soccer mom whose child's name is Dakota."

He shrugs and offers her a cigarette.

"No, thanks. I like to keep it clean."

"You have a strange attachment to your vessels."

"This ---she gestures her body--- is my working instrument, I like to take care of it. You can say a lot about a demon from the way it wears it's human, you know?"

"I'm sure your host is grateful for your respectful possession."

"In a way, she is. I have her right here, in her happy place," she taps her temple with her index finger.

"I never had you for the thoughtful kind."

"I don't need someone screaming, clawing and banging upstairs, where all the thinking happens. It's an unnecessary distraction if you ask me. I like the screaming and the banging on the outside, if you catch my drift."

Cas stares at her. 

"Or not. Nevermind."

She leans on the car by his side. Cas finishes his cigarette in silence.

"I want out," she says after a minute.

"I know," he throws the bud to the floor and stomps it.

"I can help you."

"With what exactly?"

"Whatever you need."

"In exchange for what?"

"Company, mostly."

"You mean protection."

"That too."

"There's a reason why I don't get involved."

"I'm sure there's more than one, but OK."

Castiel looks at her. Not her, this girl she's wearing. Her true visage. 

"What we are..." He trails off.

"Save it," Meg shrugs. "In case you didn't notice, hot stuff, I don't have a lot of options here. I can help you find her. I heard... I heard she reached out. Like, really out."

"She did." No point denying. The world shook that day. "That doesn't mean she will take you. It doesn't work that way."

"Like I said, I don't care."

Cas shields his eyes with his hand and takes a look around. They sure are in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"C'mon," he stands up straight and goes to the driver's side. He opens the door and stops for a second. "Did you clean after yourself?" He nods to the dinner.

"I did," she smiles.

"Good. Get in," he climbs in and she follows.

 

 

 

When a few demon scouts arrived to the dinner on Orchard St. they found the "Sorry, we're close!" sign on the door. They broke in and found nothing. It was wiped clean. There were no corpses nor blood in sight. Someone would have to make the call. 

"She's not here, Sir." 

"Oh, well, nevermind."

"Really, Sir?"

"No, you colossal idiot! KEEP LOOKING!"

"Yes, Sir." The demon complied. 

"What a drag." His partner said with a huff.

"At least we're out." Another one point out. They all nod in agreement.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Your hair is really long," Cas points out  sitting at the end of the bed. 

"I guess?" She frowns and looks up from her book.

"I haven't noticed how much it grown."

Meg runs a hand through her hair and nods. It is longer. 

"You OK there?"

"I am." Cas keeps staring. 

"You sure?"

Cas takes a hand to his neck.

"What is it?"

He shakes his head. 

"I'm not sure."

He moves his hand from his neck to his face, covering his eyes. That gets Meg standing up from the table and quickly moving to his side.

"Hey, look at me," she moves his hand away.

"Can you hear that?" He's clearly in pain.

"You know I'm not properly equipped for that tune."

Cas folds down on himself, resting his head on his knees. She says nothing but takes a look around. The sigils are there, they should be fine. Cas starts humming. No, that's not really it. Something inside Cas starts humming.

"Hey, you gotta keep it down, Rain Man. We're laying low, remember?"

"It's not me." He suddenly sits up straight. His eyes have this scary glow and Meg takes a few steps back.

Cas stands up and the glass on the windows cracked and blow up.

And just like that, the humming stops and he drops on top of the bed again.

"What the hell was _that_?" Meg asks from the other side of the room. She looks at her hands, her fingertips are tingling.

"I don't know. I think..." He trails off.

"What?"

"Pack your stuff. We're leaving."

Now it's time for him to take a look around and then he's gone.

"I guess I'll just get started without you." 

 

 

 

Castiel reappears somewhere remote. He needed space. Space to think.

She did something. 

He looks down to his hands. 

She did something and she's not alone anymore. He looks around. He, on the other hand, is alone.

 

 

 

Meg has been ready to hit the road for almost an hour now. Cas is nowhere to be found so she keeps reading. No, that's not it. She's been stuck on the same paragraph for who knows how long. 

"Let's go." He suddenly growls in that deep voice of his.

Meg stares at him for a beat. He looks somewhat upset? 

"Fine, but I'm driving." She already has the keys.

"Fine," he steps out of the room.

"Ain't you a pocketful of sunshine," she mutters to herself. 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

For the first couple of weeks or so, she just tagged along. Then, after these  _Poltergeist_  episodes,  like she likes to call them, she realized they really needed to find her. Meg honesty thought there had to be a way to reach out to her. It couldn't be just a one way line, there had to be a way to get a message through. So she started to get real about research. Castiel, whatever he was, and that was a big question mark, was, surprisingly, good company. He didn't seem to hold any grudge against her for meddling with his business in the past, so, eventually, she didn't feel like she needed to keep an eye out for retaliation on his behalf. Soon enough, they develop a sort of routine. They drive, lay low for a while, steal shit, vandalized private property, eat, drink and watch movies whenever they could. And they read a lot, like _a lot_. And that was mostly OK. But most importantly, for Meg, it was all about having a purpose. That's why, when Castiel showed no interest in actually looking for a way to contact her, she was equally pissed and disappointed. The fact that she didn't fear retaliation didn't mean she didn't fear him. She saw what he could do, what he was capable of. And she was, first and foremost, a survivor. And that meant to be a 30,000 miles step ahead, always. Nonetheless, as time went by, her frustration accumulated. So, one afternoon, while she was trying to translate some cryptic passage on a papyr she got her hands on a few weeks before, supposedly describing some ancient summoning spell, and Castiel was reading poetry, yes, some seventeenth century baroque Spanish poet, she finally asked the one million dollars question.

"You're just buying time, aren't cha?"

Castiel only reaction was to turn a page on his book.

"You know, not that I don't enjoy stealing shit from museums, but you could have saved me the trouble of busting my brain on this obscure language I've been trying to decipher for the last three weeks." She stretched her arms over her head.

"Do you have better things to do with your time?" Castiel turned another page with so much parsimony, Meg hesitated for a second. Maybe _this_ was his way to get back at her. Maybe that was his plan all along. Make her believe that there was a way out and watch as she hopefully and pointlessly tried to find it and fail every single time. Because there's no way out, not really, not for her. And those close encounters with her homies? Most likely he snuffed them just to keep his own private party going. Or maybe he was behind that as well. Who knows? Meg huffed and he glanced at her.

"You're good, Clarence. Really good." She stood up and put on her jacket. "I'm gonna grab some coffee, you want anything?"

"Coffee." Cas kept reading.

Meg grabbed the keys and walked out of the room.

 

She took the car for a ride. She needed a really good cup of coffee and this little town had nothing worth a dime. She went to the next town and drove around and it was just the same as before. And then she just drove. And kept on driving.

 

 

 

It was almost dawn when Meg returned to the house they were squatting. Cas was nowhere to be found. 

She took the shopping bag from Bed, Bath and beyond to the bathroom and began fixing up a hot and fancy bath.

 

 

 

Meg was still soaking in the scented water when Cas barged in.

"You're back," he stayed put on the doorway.

"Look at you, flexing those deduction muscles." Meg keeps her eyes closed as the music keeps playing.

"That was a long drive for a coffee."

"The coffee was worth it."

"Where is it?"

"What now?"

"My coffee."

"Oh, it got cold. I tossed it."

Cas hums some sort of reply and walks out of the bathroom.

 

 

 

Their routine hasn't changed. Yet... There's something bothering him. 

"Is there a pea under your bed, Princess?" Meg asks casually, not looking up. 

"I don't know what that means."

"How convenient." Meg sighs and keeps reading. 

 

 

 

Meg asks for his blood and he complies. That particular spell doesn't work, but it might be a good opportunity to test some theories.

 

 

 

There it is again. That humming. 

"Clarence?" He's not inside. She takes a look around the building. Her finger tips prickle with energy. And then she gets shot. Yes, someone shot her. Probably a hunter. Not your average hunter though, because she couldn't sense them and this bullet burns pretty bad. They must be warded and well informed.

_Exorcizamus te_

"Great."

_Omnis immundus spiritus_

"What a treat!"

_Omnis satanica potestas_

"Perfect timing." 

_Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii_

Meg focus. Really focus on the humming.

_Omnis legio_

She whispers the words and goes for the little container with Cas' blood. 

_Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica_

She drinks the blood and pronounces the words.

 

She hears footsteps on the pavement. 

 

She sees city lights. 

 

She feels the cold air. 

 

She smells perfume with a hint of tobacco.

 

 

 

And then she sees her. 

 

 

 

At the bottom of the stairs.

 

 

 

It's her. 

 

 

 

_Please_. Meg begs for the first time in her entire existence. Please.

 

 

 

She reaches out to her.

 

 

 

The exorcism it's not working. One of them, Meg can count at least three now, grabs her arm trying to subdued her, but she won't bulge. And then the bone snaps and the lights go out. 

 

 

She wakes up with a jolt.

 

 

Cas is leaning over her.

"Are you OK?" His voice is far away and Meg has to focus real hard.

"Swell," her arm is OK. "Hunters," she offers an explanation.

"Figured."

"What did you do?" She manages to sit up.

"Me? Nothing," he tries to remove a strand of hair from her face and Meg slaps his hand away.

"Where were you?" She takes a look around and she can sense something definitely went down. There's no traces of the hunters. Of anything, really. It's like the place was wiped clean. 

"I was getting coffee," Cas stands up and offers her a hand. Meg takes it and immediately lets go. Cas _feels_ different. She looks up and Cas is staring at her with an almost imperceptible smug. 

He knows.

"That was quite stupid."

He fucking knows.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," Meg stands up on her own. She feels different. And nauseous.

"Are you OK?" Cas puts his hand on her shoulder and Meg bends over to throw up an alarming quantity of black goo. The goo tastes like, well, hell.

Cas doesn't even flinch. Meg looks up, a little baffled and horrified and he keeps almost smiling.

"I think you burned your soul."

"Don't have one of those."

"Your host does. Or did."

Meg reaches to her and sure enough, Becca left the building.

"How's that even possible?" She steps away from the mess.

"You tell me," Cas doesn't move at all. Meg stumbles across some lump on the floor. 

"What the...?" She begins. Well, apparently, the hunters hadn't vanished after all. This particular bastard, Meg supposes he's the one who broke her arm, or at least tried to, looks like he was... 

"Have you watched Raiders of the Lost Ark?" Meg lightly kicks the pile of icky remains.

"No," Cas replies.

"Then I'll have to get back to you with that explanation. Meanwhile, I think we should leave, like _pronto_." Meg marches back inside to pick up her stuff.

 

 

 

Cas walks back inside the pub with sex hair. Yes, sex hair he didn't have before. He sits back in the corner booth they took and sighs.

"You just got some, didn't you?" Meg is almost done with her breakfast. Cas takes a sip of coffee and frowns.

"It's cold," he mutters.

"Unlike you, Casanova," she turns around to get the waitress' attention.

"She was hurt," he points out and Meg turns around way to fast.

"What?"

"Her arm was broken," Cas gestures the old woman for more coffee. They remain in utter silence until the she returns with steaming hot coffee. Castiel thanks her and sips at his mug with sheer pleasure. 

"Are you going to end me, Cas?"

He huffs clearly amused.

"I'm done laying low."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Meg leans closer and he mimics.

"I mean we're done hiding."

"I like hiding, keeps the romance flowing."

Cas chuckles and shakes his head. Suddenly, the energy around them changes dramatically and she turns around slowly. Sure enough, all eyes are on them. "Shit... there goes the neighborhood."

Cas grins and takes another sip of coffee. "So? What's it gonna be?"

She doesn't hesitate. 

"Let's get this party started, Goldie Locks."

Cas leans forward and grabs Meg by the back of the neck, pulling her in for a hot kiss. When he breaks it off, she can feel a metal aftertaste. 

"What was that?" Her voice sounds as confused as she feels.

"I learn it from the pizza man," Cas shrugs.

"What  the hell are you talking about?" She takes her fingertips to her lips and traces the blood in them.

Cas fed her his blood. 

"Well, this should be fun."

"Depends on your definition of fun," Castiel tilts his head to the side and all hell broke loose.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

"How long have you been here?" Meg takes a sip of her wine. 

"I don't remember," Cas flips another page of his book.

"Came for the booze, stayed for the poetry," she stretches her legs over to his side of the bathtub. He raises the book and waits for Meg to get comfortable.

"Poetry is exceptionally good," he narrows his eyes and bites his lower lip for a split second. "I think I arrived here a few millennia ago but I'm not so sure. I was quite disoriented at first, kept burning through my vessels. Took me a while to adjust."

"Millennia?" Now it's Meg's turn to squint. "You're a sneaky Pete, arentcha?"

He shrugs.

"How did you manage to be so discreet?"

He shrugs again.

"It's was rather easy until the Apocalypse."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" She takes another sip of wine. Music comes to an end. 

"Is about her, isn't it?" 

He looks up from his book.

"She's the Yin to your Yang? The wind beneath your wings?"

He sighs and ponders the metaphor.

"I wouldn't put it like _that_."

"How would you put it, then?"

"I don't know."

"What are you _really_ , Cas?"

The corner of his mouth twitches in a terrifying gesture.

"Extremely old, for starters."

"I figured that much, smarty pants. Old, deep and dark, like Dostoevsky. Got that pretty quick," she scolds at him and he actually grins before getting back to his book.

"What about her? Is she like you?"

"No," he hums. "She's... much more." His eyes shine with sheer and unrestrained... Meg finishes her wine in one gulp. Suddenly, the water felt too cold.

 

* * *

 

"Ugh!" Meg shrikes spitting into the floor.

"What?" Cas gets to her immediately.

"Got something in my _mouth_!"

"Oh," he relaxes and mutters an apology.

"Did you _have_ to microwave him?" He shrugs. "Shit! It's all over me!"

"I said I was sorry," Cas tries not to laugh.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Clarence."

"You look like Carrie," he points out.

"Wonderful use of pop culture. Good for you. Now, can you please zap me somewhere nice where I can clean myself up? I have Archangel filling all over me."

 

 

 

 

"What did Rafael meant when he said they need your help to find him?"

"I think they're going through some sort of crisis up there."

"And Michael can't handle it?"

"Apparently not. They're running very low in numbers."

"Final battle took a big chunk of their army and now they can't hold up the fort?"

"Seems to be the case."

"So they're looking for Gabriel? Heard he was AWOL."

"No, not Gabriel."

"Who then?"

"Their father."

"Their---what now?"

"They're looking for their father. They believe he can create more angels, keep the show running."

 

" _What_?"

 

"What?"

 

"They're looking for God?"

"Not the only God here, but yes. The only one who can fix their problem would be their father."

"So they are looking for God and they need your help?"

"Huh-huh."

"Why? Do you know where he is or something?"

"He left around the time I got here."

 

 

"Cas?"

 

"Yes?"

 

 

"Do you know where God is?"

 

"Yes. No."

 

 

 

 

"Are you trying to tell me  _you're_  God?"

 

"What? No!"

 

"So where is he?"

 

 

 

"Well, he's not around anymore."

 

 

"Not around? Did you... have something to do with that?"

 

 

"I suppose."

 

 

"Care to elaborate a little bit?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Cas?"

 

"What?"

 

"Please, explain. Now."

 

"I'm... wearing his vessel."

 

"You what now?"

 

"I'm wearing his vessel."

 

 

 

 

 

"So what you're saying, correct me if I'm wrong, is that you _possessed_ God's vessel. God had a meat suit and you just took it for a ride."

 

 

 

"Well, is not a meat suit _per se_. But I guess you could say so."

 

 

 

"Was God inside of his vessel when you borrowed it? You know, like Rebecca here?"

 

"I didn't know he was your God. I just needed a vessel strong enough to hold me."

 

"But was he inside?"

 

 

 

"Yes."

 

 

 

"Is he still there?"

 

 

 

"No. Yes."

 

 

 

"What happened to him, Cas?"

 

 

 

"Nothing."

 

"Nonononono. _No_. You tell me the truth, Castiel. Cut the crap. We might have a gentlemen agreement with the King of Hell, but Michael won't be so inclined. He's well known for his perseverance and you just disintegrated his brother and second in command, so we're in pretty nasty pickle now. Mikey might be sitting in the top floor now, buddy, but how long do you think he'll take coming down to the kitchen himself if it means bringing his Daddy back?"

 

 

 

"I know..."

 

 

 

"I'm gonna ask you one more time, Clarence. Tell me the truth. What did you do to God?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I ate him."

 


End file.
